


Electric

by awespiring



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Brief Mentions Of Rape, Eventual Smut, F/M, Lots of Angst, More tags to be added, Peter Isn't Spiderman, Slow Burn, Underage Drinking, peter & michelle have a lot of unresolved issues, they're all like 19/20, they're smart but make stupid choices, tony and may are totally dating, unconventional college students
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-05-21 13:46:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 48,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14916491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awespiring/pseuds/awespiring
Summary: “Holy shit,” Ned turned towards Peter with a look on his face that only meant trouble, “this is perfect for you.”Peter pushed Ned’s desk chair out of his way and pulled himself towards he screen. He read the words aloud.COLLEGE ROOMMATE WANTEDI go to Columbia University in New York, so it would only make since to take interest in this ad if you attend there too. I don’t care if you’re a guy or girl, just pick up your shit and help with bills and rent. It’s 50/50, no negotiations. I can provide transportation to campus, doesn’t matter. It’s only one spare room, big enough for a twin bed and some belongings. I have a job but it’s hard to handle rent by myself. Don’t message me if you’re gonna bullshit.(ps. it’s more expensive to stay on campus then off so don’t even bother asking whatever stupid question you were thinking of)text only, don’t call.(212-987-4765)“Sound pretty pretentious, whoever they are.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Am I a sucker for Michelle/Peter, fuck yeah! Also I've been sitting on this idea for a while and haven't gotten around to writing it, but I had some sudden inspiration. This will be a lengthy fic, I'm hoping. Enjoy. (Also I'm lazy and didn't proofread this a bunch, so there's probably typos- which I apologize for.)
> 
> Sincerely, you're friendly neighborhood spideychelle trash.
> 
> The title comes from the song 'Electric' by Alina Baraz. I have a whole playlist for these two but this song is so amazing for them.

It started off as a joke, but somehow Ned and Peter had fallen into deep hole on Craigslist looking at roommate ads. To be fair, they were both serious about moving out, but not enough to fully commit to it. So, as a joke, Ned pulled up the website and started typing random adjectives alongside the word ‘roommate wanted’, and here they were nearly two hours later. Peter was idly biting at the skin along the tip of his thumb but was brought back to reality when Ned started laughing, more like yelling, at one the ads he ran across. Peter leaned forward to read the letters typed along the page.

 

**LARPing ROOMMATE WANTED (GUYS ONLY)**

 

Looking for a roommate between the ages of 18-23, preferably dudes. But like girls are cool too, totally. my last roommate thought it was weird to LARP in the apartment so I’m needing someone who’s part of the community or isn’t afraid to try it out. We meet every Mon-Thurs. But the perks of living with a LARPer like me, we can do it whenever since we’ll be living together. More info on the apartment can be asked by sending me a quick text. SERIOUS INQUIRIES ONLY. 

 

TEL: 278-900-2030

 

Peter’s mouth was hung open. He didn’t know whether to laugh or feel bad for the dude writing the ad.

 

“Dude,” Ned chimes in after his small laughing fit, “this is perfect for us.”

 

“Perfect for you.” Peter interjected, pointing a finger at this best friend. “I grew out of it.”

 

“Whatever,” Ned sounded dismissive, smiling at his best friend, “Two weeks ago, I saw you dressed in that gryffindor robe I got you last Christmas, waving a stupid pencil around. Not to mention, you weren’t pronouncing any of the spells correctly.” 

 

Peter’s face turned a deep shade of red. He didn’t have a comeback or any smart remark because Ned wasn’t lying. Peter was only half-lying, he had mostly grown out of it— but that didn’t mean he had to stop completely.

 

“Another reason why I should never have given you a key to May’s apartment.” Peter shook his head at the lack of privacy his friend allowed him to have. “There’s no way we can move out together.”

 

Ned immediately looked like he had been punched in the gut, which Peter noticed quickly. “No, _no_ ,” Peter realized what he said sounded terribly hurtful, which weren’t his intentions, “I just mean—like, I don’t think it’ll do our friendship any good.”

 

Ned slumped in the chair, lifting his feet up slightly to swirl towards Peter. Peter wanted to mentally—no physically—slam his head into a desk. He had such a shitty way with words sometimes.

 

“Crap, Ned.” Peter said with defeat, “It’s that we always see each other, like everyday, we go to class together, we’re always hanging out. It’s good and we’ve been doing it forever. I think that adding in the element of us living together might change things.”

 

“You’re just being negative.” Ned shrugged, “but it’s that’s what you want.”

 

“Ned—,” Peter began, but Ned’s interest had suddenly been glued to the screen in front of them.

 

“Holy  _shit_ ,” Ned turned towards Peter with a look on his face that only meant trouble, “this is perfect for you.”

 

Peter pushed Ned’s desk chair out of his way and pulled himself towards he screen. He read the words aloud.

 

**COLLEGE ROOMMATE WANTED**

 

I go to Columbia University in New York, so it would only make since to take interest in this ad if you attend there too. I don’t care if you’re a guy or girl, just pick up your shit and help with bills and rent. It’s 50/50, no negotiations. I can provide transportation to campus, doesn’t matter. It’s only one spare room, big enough for a twin bed and some belongings. I have a job but it’s hard to handle rent by myself. Don’t message me if you’re gonna bullshit.

 

_(ps. it’s more expensive to stay on campus then off so don’t even bother asking whatever stupid question you were thinking of)_

 

text only, don’t call.

(212-987-4765)

 

“Sound pretty pretentious, whoever they are.” 

 

Ned smacked Peter on the back of his head, pointing at the screen with enthusiasm. “This could be some hot chick going to Columbia—an amazing opportunity to make something happen for your boring love life.”

 

“Or not.” 

 

“Peter.”

 

“No.”

 

“Give me your phone.”

 

“No.”

 

Unfortunately, Ned has nimble fingers and was quick to snatch the phone from Peter’s hands, quickly typing the number in before sending a quick text, all while swatting Peter’s grabby hands away. 

 

“Ned, what the hell?” Peter’s eyes were wide, anxiety filling his veins. The phone dinged only mere seconds after he spoke. Ned smirked knowingly, throwing the phone to Peter.

 

“Tell me I’m not amazing,” 

 

Peter snorted, looking down at his phone. Suddenly all the blood drained from his face, turning it a stark shade of white. Ned’s upbeat mood suddenly turned to concern when he saw the look on Peter’s face. 

 

“What?” Ned asks suddenly, breaking the silence.

 

“They asked for my name and a picture of my school ID.” It was all too weird and forward, something didn’t seem right to Peter.

 

“They’re probably trying to weed out the weirdos. A lot of creeps apply for those ads.” Ned snatches the phone from Peter’s hands again, causing Peter to throw his hands in the air out of frustration. “There.”

 

“What did you do?” Peter was almost too afraid to ask. 

 

“I sent what they asked for. I know you weren’t going to do it yourself.”

 

“I was,” Peter tried to sound convincing but it wasn’t working, he sighed, “maybe.”

 

Then his phone was chiming again and the swiftness of the replies was making Peter feel uneasy. He swiped the phone to unlock it, reading the most recent blue bubble that had showed up in his messages.

 

‘Meet me @ 2 on the field outside main building. I’ll mostly likely be reading or on my laptop. My bag is black with red letters on it. Don’t be late.’

 

He could feel the hostility seething through the small letters on the screen. Peter took a second to gulp before looking up at Ned. 

 

“This is your fault.”

 

“You’ll thank me later, dude.”

 

 

#####

 

Peter cleared his throat much louder than necessary, adjusting the shirt collar hidden under his sweater. His style has only changed slightly since high school. sweaters were reserved for weekdays and weekends are when he let lose— ditch the sweater and just wear a shirt and jeans. He was living his life to the fullest. 

 

“I’m not sure about this.” Peter’s voice cracked. He could have swore he was back in high school, trying to talk to Liz. He had never been more nervous. 

 

“Well,” Ned started, shoving his laptop in his bag, “you better figure it out.” His friend pointed behind him to his immediate right. Peter spun on his heels, adjusting his backpack straps nervously. He felt a forceful shove on his back and stumbled forward. He shot Ned a drying look, mumbling something under his breath as he walked towards person sitting on the lawn.

 

He spotted the red letters on the bag immediately, adjusting his attention to the person beside it. The girl, Peter know realized, who had her face buried in a book.

 

He cleared his throat once more, only now he was trying to get her attention. At first, he planned to go introduce himself in true Peter Parker fashion—embarrassment and all—but that didn’t seem like a good choice for this situation. He attempted to subdue his nervous jitters and then it happened.

 

“Peter.” It was the single-most terrifying sound he had heard in his life. Her face, her passive aggressive tone. This was impossible.

 

“Em,” His mouth gaped open, brow furrowing. “MJ?” His voice was raised slightly in the hopes that Ned might hear— he did.

 

“This. Is. Awesome.” Ned spoke, but it was mostly to himself. He quickly greeted MJ, who seemed almost more excited to see Ned than he was to see her. She quickly shoved her book in her personalized backpack before pulling him in for a hug, which was weird. So weird, actually. He never remembered Michelle liking the idea of having to touch people at all, or sharing any kind of human contact for that matter. She did it willingly. It was like he had been pulled into an alternate universe and for a moment he could have swore MJ smiled at him. 

 

“You knew this whole time?” His voice raised a few octaves, throwing his hands to his side. “What are you even doing here?”

 

“First of all, you still look like a bunch of dorks.”

 

So much for a new and improved Michelle Jones, Peter thought. She was still the same MJ, just slightly evolved and more sociable. Both Ned and Peter shared a confused look before staring back at her.

 

“And sort of— not really. I mean when you sent the picture to me and everything, that was obvious. But I didn’t set this up hoping you two would find the ad. I really do need the roommate. I only jumped on the opportunity because you’re not a stranger, you know. There’s a ton of creeps around Manhattan.” She said calmly, but all at once.

 

“Why are you at Colombia?” Peter asked suddenly, because he specifically remembered MJ telling him that she didn’t want anything to do with college. “You said you were _done_ and moving out to California.”

 

She huffed, slipping her backpack on. Peter was right, she never planned to attend college, a sudden decision she made during senior year. But it was a rash decision, her mind was all over the place then. 

 

“Things changed. _I_ changed.” She gestured towards herself. 

 

Peter hadn’t fully took in her appearance until now, stricken by his old friend standing in front of him. Her hair wasn’t pulled back in the usual ponytail, now wild and unkempt. It fit MJ perfectly, it was messy but beautiful and Peter couldn’t help but stare. He never realized how curly and lengthy her hair was until now. She had changed her style as well, opting for more casual clothes—form-fitting—that allowed her to blend in. She used to pick the most outrageous outfits, to prove that she wasn’t one to follow any mold, but somehow she still always managed to fit in perfectly. That was something Peter was still trying to figure out. 

 

“Yeah, clearly.” Peter was breathless, nervously pulling at his strap again. “...so?”

 

“ _Right_ ,” She fumbled with a thread on the end of her shirt, “so, I only have one room.”

 

“Peter’ll take it,” Ned blurted out, “right, Peter?

 

His mouth was open but there weren’t any words, only unintelligible noises. Ned hit him on the back of his head, bringing Peter back to reality. 

 

“Y-ya- _yes_. Yeah, I’ll take it.”

 

He was so getting Ned back for this. 

 

“Great,” Michelle smiled, handing Peter a paper with a bunch of writing on it, “that will explain everything.”

 

His lips pushed together, eyes scanning over the words written on the piece of paper. Rules, obligations, a bunch of other nonsense.

 

“ _Seriously_ , Em?” Peter asks, pointing out a sentence on the paper. “No drinking, no smoking, no having sex while your roommates—“

 

“You’re right,” MJ laughs, snatching the list from his hand and pulling the pencil out that was perched behind her ear. She quickly scratches out whatever Peter had just been reading. “Forgot that I’m dealing with a hopeless virgin.”

 

“ _Hey_!” Peter was fully offended by the statement, even though it was only partly true. “I am not a virgin.”

 

“I was talking about the sex, not the other two.” She tried to clarify, a clear hint of sass in her voice.

 

“Me too.”

 

They were silent for a beat and then Peter huffed, running his fingers through his hair. Ned had been watching in awe for the past several minutes, eyes flicking from Peter to Michelle, then back to Peter. He could feel the heat radiating off the two, they clearly had some unresolved situations to work through.

 

“This is perfect, guys,” Ned attempted to lighten the air, “we can start hanging out again, _reconnect_ , work through some obvious issues we have with each other.”

 

The both shot Ned a glare and he held his hands up, opening his mouth to speak again, “just read the rest of the list, Peter.”

 

He carefully snatched it back, pushing his feelings far back in his mind. This wasn’t the place or time for things to blow up, not like they did in high school. MJ was oddly silently as she watched him read over the list, realizing she might have overstepped— something she did often.

 

“I’m also paying the rest of this month’s rent by myself if you want to move in already. You won’t have to worry about. It’s kind of like a trial run, you’re free to leave if you don’t like it.” Part of her hoped he would, life was so lonely here. She hadn’t been able to make any friends since enrolling, it only made things difficult. 

 

Peter thought for a long, hard minute. His consciousness was telling him this was a terrible idea, but he was still curious. He had grown up a lot since high school, things were different, they had to be. 

 

“ _Fine_. I’m in.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, i apologize for my never-ending typos. i'm still working around the idea of waiting longer between updates to push out some larger chapters. i don't know if that's something you guys would like. i'm totally cool with shorter chapters if you want more frequent updates, but if you're okay waiting longer i can definitely pull off some longer ones.
> 
> also if anyone's wondering how i picture peter and michelle in this fic, check these links. it always helps for me to visualize stuff while i'm readying (it helps make me feel more involved in the story)
> 
> mj: https://www.instagram.com/p/BhdR16DhbCW/?hl=en&taken-by=zendaya
> 
> peter: https://www.instagram.com/p/Bb8QCSCAZMd/?hl=en&taken-by=tomholland2013
> 
> ned is still ned. we love him.
> 
> enjoy!

 

 

“Is this the last one?” Michelle asked, reaching her hands out to retrieve the box. Peter could only see her from the chin up and he couldn’t hold back the chuckle that escaped him. MJ raised a curious eyebrow at Peter who shook his head in return. 

 

“Em, I got it. Let go.” He softly removed the box from her grip, readjusting so he wouldn’t drop it. Aunt May raised him like a gentleman, even if he knew the girl in front of him was capable of tearing him a new one if and when she felt the need. Michelle let out a quiet  _ ‘hmmph’ _ and Peter could feel her judging him from behind as she walked around him to close the front door.

 

His stuff was piled in their living area— which,  _ weird _ . He wasn’t sharing an apartment with May anymore and this wasn’t Ned. This was Michelle Jones, the one girl who had seen him at his most vulnerable moments. She probably understood more about himself than he did. MJ has always been the most observant person he had ever met. She could tell when he was lying or upset, she could break him within seconds. Ned still never forgave her for the time during their junior year when he and Peter were planning a surprise party, which was fatefully ruined by MJ’s incredible interrogation skills. But, things weren’t the same as they were years ago. This was new territory for Peter and MJ both. 

 

He found himself standing there, unable to move and staring at the girl in front of him. MJ cleared her throat before motioning him towards the room down the hall, right across from her own. Peter lightly kicked the door with his foot, walking inside. It was nearly the same size as his room back at Aunt May’s and that was perfect. He hadn’t thought about what it was going to be like spending this much time away from her, but it also meant that he wouldn’t have to listen to her worrying all day or eat the terrible food she always tried to make. She meant well and that’s what mattered to him. He tried to take care of the cooking on most occasions, otherwise they always ordered takeout food. Peter figured it wasn’t going to be much different with MJ. Like the morning of his eighteenth birthday when Ned and MJ surprised him with the cake she had made. He tried, he  _ really _ tried to mask the truth, but he couldn’t. Michelle swore to  _ never _ try to cook again after that. Part of him wanted to reach out and pull her to him, hug her,  _ touch _ her,  _ feel _ her. He missed the feeling of her skin against his fingertips, soft and subtle. It wasn’t like that anymore, though, he couldn’t let his feelings cloud his better judgement… or whatever people liked to call it. Peter didn’t know how to handle all of this. It was giving him whiplash.

 

“It’s small, I know.” She shrugged, shoving her hands in her front pockets. She was barefoot and perched against the cheap wooden door. 

 

“It’s perfect.” Peter replied, not bothered by the size or the look. “I’m not bothered at all.” 

 

“Uh, if you need any help I’ll be in my room,” She motioned her thumb behind her before turning, “don’t need me.”

 

“Yep.” Peter said curtly, nodding and setting the last box down. Just like that, she felt like old MJ. Her forced hostility towards him was mostly empty threats, never any real emotion or meaning behind them. It was old MJ, the one he fell in love.

 

Peter was dead by the time he finished, his back hitting the floor with a loud ‘ **thud** !’ and not even a half second later there was a knock on the door and then the door knob turned. He quickly sat up and readjusted his shirt, watching MJ stand in the doorway with a concerned look, wanting to say something but not having the courage.

 

“Seriously, doors... _ locks _ ?” Peter starts to deconstruct the last box before throwing it in the growing pile at the corner of his room, “I could have been naked or something.”

 

She rolled her eyes, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “I’ve caught you watching porn before, Peter. There’s  _ nothing _ I haven’t seen.”

 

He shuddered at the thought of it. Sure, he had felt compromised at the time, but he was more focused on the fact that she was the only thing on his mind back then. He only ever watched the porn to make it not seem weird, because moaning MJ’s name to himself seemed a little too weird for him to do in a dark room when no one’s home. He cleared his throat and tried to ignore the blush creeping up his neck.

 

“You promised to never bring that up.” He walked towards her to back her out of the doorway, “ _ Ever _ .”

 

MJ stood her ground and didn’t move an inch, “You’re what—twenty?— and you still can’t talk about  _ anything _ sexual?” She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and bit down. Peter hated the sly little look on her face. “You really haven’t changed, Petey.”

 

“Really, Em?” MJ always pushes his buttons in just the right way. He hated it. “Petey? You know how much I hate that.”

 

“I might need a refresher course, considering you haven’t talked to me since graduation.” 

 

He felt the sting, her words like knives poking into his chest. He didn’t want to bring up the past, not now, time had gone on long enough for things to be comfortable now. There was no way he was going to ruin that.

 

“Well, we’re roommates now.” He shrugged, throwing a random shirt he found on the floor in her direction, hitting her in the face. “Plenty of time to get to know each other again.”

 

MJ forcefully shoved the shirt into his chest before retreating to the kitchen. Peter chucked the shirt, followed closely behind, he hadn’t ate since the morning and his stomach was growling. She turned her head behind her as she looked in the fridge. It was mostly bare, he made a mental note to remind them to go shopping this weekend. 

 

“So, what about Ned?” MJ asked, handing him a water bottle. He opened the bottle with more force than necessary, causing some of the water to spill on the counter. He quickly apologized and promised to clean it up later. 

 

“He’s living with his parents still, he drives here everyday. It’s ridiculous because it’s, like, an  _ hour  _ drive.” He chugged a good portion of the bottle in one go, before burping obnoxiously loud.

 

“Oh,  _ gross _ .” MJ laughed, wrinkling her nose. “That sounds shitty, though.”

 

“ _ Yeah _ , not to mention he’s been giving me rides the entire time.”

 

“You still can’t drive?”

 

“I can, I just— you remember Tony, right?” Peter looks at her suddenly, crossing his arms across his chest.

 

“Stark? That billionaire dude that May was dating?” 

 

“ _ Is _ dating.” He quickly corrects, continuing on. “Well, he bought this super nice car as a graduation present, for me— which was awesome, but I couldn’t take it.”

 

“So, you’re telling me you can’t drive because you felt bad for taking the car? As a gift?” MJ threw a balled up napkin at his head before perching her elbows on the marble island that sat in the middle of the kitchen, “I hate that annoying moral code you have with yourself. Sometimes people like to do nice things, Peter.”

 

“He offered to pay for my tuition,” He began, but he could feel the response about to escape MJ, “and set me up at an apartment in Manhattan.”

 

“ _ PETER _ .” MJ looked like she was ready to maul him,  _ alive _ . “You’re so stupid.”

 

“I got a full ride, Em.” He informed her, trying to justify whatever stupid thing was going to come out of his mouth next. “I didn’t need it—and May didn’t want me to leave so quickly.”

 

“Full ride? That’s amazing.” MJ tip-toed herself around the table, sliding into the seat beside Peter. “How?”

 

“Uh, some essay. It was stupid, really. I just got lucky, I guess.” Michelle wanted to pry, but decided against it for once.

 

MJ nodded thoughtfully, although she would have made completely different choices in his situation. But, that’s why he was Peter and she wasn’t. He was always thoughtful, generous, willing to risk his life for a someone—even a stranger if it meant it was for the greater good. 

 

“You’re really just annoyingly nice, like  _ all _ the time.” He accepted that with pride, leaning back in his chair. “It makes me want to vomit.” 

 

“It’s part of the Peter Parker charm.”

 

“Charm?  _ Sure _ .” MJ laughs fully, before grabbing the water bottle and pouring the small amount still in the bottle over his head. “Go take a shower, you stink.”

 

####

 

Two weeks had passed since Peter finally settled in and sophomore year was almost in full swing. Ned had visited several times in the past two weeks, mostly to witness the petty fights Peter and Michelle always had in the apartment about not picking up after themselves. Ned was always Switzerland with the both of them, not wanting either on his bad side. They were like an old married couple. Things were great.

 

It was Friday now, which meant classes started Monday— which also meant MJ and Peter were also trying to get things ready and panicking in the process— and freshman orientation was approaching Monday as well. Michelle had been involuntarily signed up to help out by her professor for journalism, something about branching out and also getting some good content for the newsletter (she took that on voluntarily, but  _ this  _ was not in the job description). Peter was reveling in it, like the kid he was. He could see the pained look on her face and hesitantly reached over to turn her frown, as most would say, upside down. He used his two fingers to push at the corners of her mouth. She swatted his hand away with a loud ‘ **smack** !’ causing Peter to jump. 

 

“You do  _ not _ get to enjoy this, Parker.” She forced through clenched teeth, buttoning up the off-white colored shirt she had tucked into her skirt—and  _ wow _ , Peter had mentally kick himself in his manhood, her legs were going to be the downfall to humanity and Peter Parker himself. They were long, went on for miles... and  **_glowing_ ** . He loved seeing MJ like this, not hiding like she used to. She had grown into herself and really accepted her body as it was, a  _ masterpiece _ . 

 

“Last names,” Peter cringes, slapping his hand to his chest softly, “man, I’m hurt, Michelle.”

 

“Stop.” She huffed, trying and failing to hold back a laugh. “It’s not funny. I hate kids.”

 

“Em, they’re only a year younger than us.” He pushed himself up from where he was sitting on the bathroom counter. “You were in the same position last year.”

 

She nodded knowingly, but didn’t speak.

 

“Speak of, how in the hell is it possible that we went to school here the entire year and never saw each other?”

 

“ _ About that, _ ” MJ started, not meeting his eyes. Peter quickly whipped his head around to peer at her, “I did.”

 

“You saw me and—“ His voice was raising higher with every word, but he was cut off with Michelle shoving a fake clip-on tie in his hands. Lazy, but indescribably MJ. 

 

She lifted her hair out of the way and allowed him to clip it on, “I figured it was better— you know, for you to find me instead. I didn’t want you to think I followed you and Ned here.”

 

“Did you?” He was almost too afraid to ask.

 

“ _ God _ , no.” MJ sighed and dropped her hair, fixing it back into place. It didn’t help much but it still managed to look pristine and untouched, a perfect mess. “ _ Never _ .”

 

“Then?” Peter needed her to elaborate further because this wasn’t getting anywhere.

 

“Look, things are good now and I’m grateful for that— you have no idea. It’s so hard making friends here, way worse than Midtown. But, I didn’t want things that happened in high school to carry on into college. We needed time,  _ all _ of us, to figure our shit out.” Michelle’s eyes started to water, but she suppressed her emotion quick enough for Peter not to notice. “Things still suck, we all have baggage, but I was hoping things would be different.”

 

“Are they?” There was a long pause and Peter wondered if he was asking himself that question rather than MJ.

 

“Yeah?” She wasn’t sure of herself and they could both see that. “It’s weird, okay? But we’ve been good so far, I think.”

 

Peter nodded thoughtfully. MJ wasn’t wrong, they had been getting along. She had dialed down her teasing to a seven, which was a huge step considering she’s always at fifteen. They fight over stupid things, stuff that can be resolved with a couple minutes of pointless banter and than one of them giving in and doing what the other one wanted. The past was the past, he knew that neither of them were ready to relive it—not yet.

 

“Yeah, but—“ MJ cut Peter off immediately.

 

“Not now, Peter.  _ Seriously _ .” He eyes were wide, serious, and scary enough to make Peter want to cower into a corner. He didn’t want to pry at it because as soon as that door opened, it could never be closed. Peter wanted to right his wrongs, but he wasn’t ready— neither was Michelle. So, for now, everything was behind them and they forgot that life before Columbia even existed.

 

 

####

 

**two years prior (beginning of senior year)**

 

 

 

“I can’t do this.” MJ pushed herself off of Peter in a frenzy, grabbing the blanket to clutch to her bare chest. It left Peter naked,  _ exposed _ in front of her— mind the pillow he had covering himself.

 

“But, you seemed into it, like  _ really _ into—“ Peter stammered, not being able to find the right words.

 

“Well, I’m not anymore, okay?” Michelle tried to explain to Peter, “I can change my mind if I want to.”

 

“No,  _ totally _ , I respect that but...” Peter was cut off by the sound of MJ sniffing. It was the first time he had seen her cry,  _ ever _ . “You can talk to me, Em. We’re way past hiding things from each other.”

 

MJ shook her head profusely, starting to reach for her clothing scattered along the floor at the end of the bed. 

 

“I have to go, I-I can’t do this.” She stammered out all at once, pulling up the zipper on her jeans and pulling her shirt over her head. “I just— I’m  _ sorry _ .”

 

“Don’t be,” Peter choked out, trying to reach out for her hand. He blindly grabbed for his boxers with his free hand. As soon as he found them, he slipped them on and stood from the bed. His hair was a mess, disheveled and pointing in several directions. He was beautiful and perfect, everything MJ needed, but she couldn’t allow herself something like this. She didn’t deserve it.

 

“Stay,  _ please _ .” Peter begged. He was hopeless and the last thing he wanted was to hurt Michelle. “Just stay.”

 

She slowly slipped her hand from his grip, wiping away the tears that were running down her face. She couldn’t even imagine how embarrassing she looked right now.

 

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Peter.”

 

The door clicked in front of him, causing him to flinch and only then did he realize his eyes feeling with tears of his own. He had ran her away, the one thing he was terrified of— losing another person he cared about.

 

She wouldn’t talk to him for four months after that night and  _ no _ , they never talked about it.

 

####

 

**(back to present)**

 

 

 

Peter couldn’t resist the urge to adjust his fake tie when he saw MJ walk past with a group of students, looking miserable. She started to laugh and wave, but her face quickly formed into a scowl, flipping him the bird. She was  _ loving _ it, Peter had no doubt. The incoming freshman looking just as scared as he had, like a herd of deer caught in headlights. Michelle answered a few question when they raised their hands, attempting to keep her eye rolls minimal. Peter was staring for too long, but he didn’t care. 

 

“Peter!” Ned was yelling from across the yard, waving his hands around wildly. Peter huffed to himself and began the long trek over to his friend. He avoided the strange looks he was getting from the other students scattered over the lawn, some of them laughing. 

 

“Hey, Ned.” Peter nodded crossing his arms over his chest. He was lucky enough to have his first class of the day with Ned so he wasn’t roaming around by himself. It also gave them time to catch up, since they weren’t spending as much time together now.

 

“ _ So _ , I have a surprise,” Ned began as they made their way up the steps to the building they had their first class in, “—don’t know how you’re gonna react.” Ned quickly pulled his phone from his pocket, sending Peter a text. It dinged a couple seconds after and Peter reached for his phone.

 

“Ned, I swear to god if this is another one of those pictures of you and Betty,—” He couldn’t even finish, scarred from the previous incident.

 

“That was an accident!” Ned tried defending himself, but there’s no way either of them believed him.

 

“Yeah, ‘ _ accident _ ’,” Peter made sure to add his little air quotes with his fingers, “I don’t need another after sex selfie from you two.”

 

Ned was a giggling mess, hitting Peter on the shoulder with the side of his fist.  _ Okay _ , it wasn’t an accident— sort of. He never actually planned to send it but Betty pushed the button before he could protest and then he got several angry voicemails from Peter about how he would never do this to him if he was the one having sex, all the time— he wasn’t— and that he didn’t need to know anymore about Ned and his relationship, not to this level.

 

“Dude, just look.”

 

Peter eyed him suspiciously, sliding the screen over to unlock his phone. He stared at the screen for a moment before his eyes got wide with excitement, looking down at the phone and up at Ned several times before he could process what he was looking at.

 

“Two tickets,” Ned held his two fingers up, “Star Wars marathon.” 

 

“No way,” Peter whispered, looking around to make sure no one had caught on to how much he was  _ nerding _ out.

 

“But there’s a catch.”

 

Peter’s face immediately dropped, arms slumping to his side. “They’re not for us, are they?”

 

“They’re for you,” Ned promptly pointed at Peter, then to MJ—who had just stepped inside the building, free from the kids she had been touring around campus, “and her.”

 

“MJ?!,” Peter tried to keep his voice down, “She hates those movies.”

 

“What about me?” 

 

Ned and Peter whipped around, coming face to face with her. 

 

“Peter has two tickets to the Star Wars marathon playing downtown and he was gonna ask you to go.” Ned spit out quickly, before retreating, “Bye, Peter!”

 

Peter was standing there, his jaw tensed tightly. There wasn’t much he could do to make the situation less humiliating. MJ finally broke the silence, asking her previous question.

 

“What is it?” She tried to pry the phone from Peter’s hands but failed, so she settle for pulling his body towards her until she could get a glimpse. “Star Wars? You know I hate those movies, right?”

 

“Yes, I’m aware.” Peter spoke, finally. He ran his free hand through his hair, clicking the button to lock his phone. 

 

“I’ll go.” She was smiling at him and it was sincere, he could tell. Peter was again, at a loss for words. Today was a weird  _ fucking _ day. 

 

“ _ Really _ ? You don’t have to, I can just tell Ned to get a refund and—“

 

“We’re going, Peter.”

 

“Are you sure? We can just—“

 

“Peter. We. Are. Going.”

 

Peter gave in. Rule number one of being friends with MJ, she’s always right—well  _ mostly _ . 

 

“Okay, uh— it’s a date.” It was out of his mouth before he even realized and he was blushing,  _ hard _ . He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head. “I mean—not like  _ date _ date, but like—“

 

“You’re such a dork.” MJ laughed. 

 

She seemed unbothered and that was a good sign. It meant she wasn’t completely against the idea of a date—it’s wasn’t one, but still.

 

“That makes you a dork by association.”

 

MJ hummed in thought, before clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. She always did that when she had something smart to say. Peter couldn’t help but find it cute and that made him feel like crap, because he wasn’t supposed to have feelings like that anymore. They swore to each other. No falling in love, no hooking up, strictly friends. One of them was bound to give in eventually.

 

“I need proof.”

 

“The fact that you’re talking to me is proof enough.”

 

“Shut up, Parker.”

 

Strictly friends.  _ Yeah _ .


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PSA for those reading: I want to be clear that this story doesn't solely focus on rape/sexual assault. It's definitely a part of the story and has shaped how MJ views a lot of things, especially guys. She will, in no way, be weaker because of this. She's apprehensive about a lot of things, but I don't want you all to think that this will shape her character. It won't. But there's mention of it and it's an important topic to bring up. Therefore, if you're not into that kind of things-- it's fine. I don't want anyone to feel uncomfortable. (There isn't any graphic description of any of it happening, either.) I wanted to get this part of her backstory in there, so you can learn more about this version of Michelle Jones. She's such a bad-ass and I love her for it. She also loves singing and dancing around in her apartment when Peter's gone. Peter is still a clueless dork-- but, he really just wants to understand MJ. 
> 
> But, besides that; A few of the next chapters were wrote in advance, so they're shorter than what I'm working on currently. I'm really appreciating all of the feedback and love hearing people's thoughts, so don't be afraid to leave any comments about the story! if you have any ideas for stuff you would like to see happen, please let me know! Also typos are expected so I'm sorry for my laziness. xo

Peter couldn’t stop shaking his leg. His fingers were tapping against the coarse denim of his jeans, he wasn’t even sure these were nerves. They couldn’t have been. No, they weren’t. MJ was sitting closer to him than necessary and he didn’t know what to do in this situation. He didn’t know it was an old habit or if she was asking for him to touch her, and  _ god _ did he want. He couldn’t believe this was even happening. It was like for him all over again.

 

“Incest appropriation,” She nodded her head in mock approval, chins resting in her and her elbow was propped against the arm rest closest to Peter. She was driving him crazy and he hated her for it. Peter was stronger than that. He could totally pull this off for another couple years and— MJ’s fingers tapping lightly against his chest interrupted his train of thought. “I’m loving it.” Her voice was laced with sarcasm.

 

“Hey, it was one kiss,” Peter managed to squeak out, his body tense, “it’s not like they were aware they were brother and sister when they did it.”

 

“Still kind of gross, isn’t it?” It felt like her eyes were staring intently into his soul and he had never held eye contact with her for this long.  _ Ever _ .

 

“It was just a kiss,” Peter shrugged, “but,  _ shhh _ , watch.”

 

MJ slumped back into her chair and— was she  _ pouting _ ? Peter couldn’t believe it. To be fair, she was handling it pretty well. A long time ago, he tried to get her to watch one of the movies during a movie night with Ned and MJ was  _ not _ having it. His previous thoughts flooded back to him—there was no way he was going to be able to do  _ this _ . He was staring at her for too long and MJ noticed, offering a friendly smile. He forced one in return and rested back in his seat, leg still shaking madly. MJ hadn’t managed to notice  _ that _ yet, thankfully. Only five more hours Peter, he thinks. He could do this.

 

Five hours later and he could, in fact, not do this any longer. Peter didn’t remember how it happened, but MJ had settled against his shoulder, her eyes closed and the softest snores escaping her as she breathed. She started drooling and Peter should have found it gross, but it was kind of cute—gross, but cute. It only really started bothering him when the piece of fabric was sticking to his skin where the drool had pooled at. The end credits came on, startling MJ awake. She was disoriented and squinted, suddenly realizing she had somehow fallen asleep.

 

“Shit,” She breathes out, stretching her limbs, “I didn’t think I was gonna fall asleep.”

 

It didn’t bother him, really. MJ was never good at watching movies, she always talked about how much she hated them. There wasn’t one movie she hasn’t fallen asleep to while watch, with Peter, at least. She could marathon a whole television series with no problem— but she could never sit through a movie.

 

He shrugs, “You’ve never been good with movies, it’s fine.”

 

It hit a small nerve in MJ, she knew he didn’t mean for it to come off that way it did—or maybe she was being defensive. She resisted the urge to snark back at him because MJ was surely going to regret it.

 

The entire night had been a bit too awkward for the both of them. It wasn’t a date—they were aware of that. But there was rift he could feel between himself and MJ. Apprehension, maybe? Neither of them wanting to say anything, but also wanting to say everything at once. He had found himself in this position all the time lately, but he was good at keeping his thoughts and feelings suppressed when he needed to. The last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt her.

 

“It was alright.” She tells Peter when they’re walking back to her car.

 

“What?” Peter asks, “The movie?”

 

“The date.” MJ slips up. Peter’s face went slack, staring at Michelle. She didn’t even realize what she had said until she looked at him.

 

“So, it was a date?”

 

“No-no, I didn’t—“

 

“Yes. You did. Just now. You said it.”

 

“It was a friend date,” She shrugs it off, “Friends can do that, right?”

 

“Uh, Sure.”

 

He was everything but  _ sure _ about that.

 

####

  
  


Three. That was the number of times this week that Peter had wanted to throw up, not physically, but it made him feel sick to his stomach—he couldn’t really describe it. But, he could tell you exactly why it was happening.

 

The first time it happened, he blamed it on the shitty Thai takeout that MJ bought on a whim one Friday night. To be fair, it was disgusting. He even bothered to look up the reviews and ratings. “ _ Two _ stars, Em!” She was waving her hand flippantly, throwing one of the decorative pillows on the couch in his direction. “Don’t knock it til’ you try it.” Somehow, MJ came out of this situation perfectly fine. Peter always had the weaker stomach, or maybe MJ was some kind of superhuman who was able to stomach even the most evil foods. He was a wimp and he wasn’t afraid to admit it.

 

It wasn’t the Thai food, not in the  _ slightest _ . She was swaying her hips, curls bouncing against her shoulders, he heard her mumbling something—singing, maybe? But, it was drowned out by the music blaring through her headphones. MJ was always moving around when she studied, flipping through her note cards viciously, eyes scanning over them for only a couple seconds. He watched her silently, laughing behind the closed fist that was pressed against his lips. The paper he was writing was  _ actually _ boring him to death—yes, to  _ death _ . It was a refreshing distraction from the jumbled mess in his head, watching Michelle dance around freely,  _ wildly _ . He hadn’t seen her like this before. She whips her head around suddenly, still swaying her body, but she freezes when she spots Peter— he’s still laughing, by the way. It was like she had completely forgotten he was there or at least half-expected him to be studying in his bedroom. He did,  _ usually _ .

 

“Don’t you  _ dare _ say a word, Peter Parker.” She points a stern finger at him, pulling her earbuds out, music still blaring. “You’ll regret it.”

 

Peter could see the embarrassment on her face but didn’t want to make it worse. He pulled his lips together in a tight line and offered a smile. “I wasn’t.” He finally says, “I promise.”

 

She only partially believes him before retreating back to her bedroom, but not before grabbing her fourth soda of the night. She lived on caffeine during cram weeks like this.

 

“I’ll kill you.” She leaves as a final warning, shutting her door gently.

 

He didn’t realize a death threat could turn him on so much, and  _ yes _ he felt bad for thinking it, but he was a young man—a sexually frustrated one at that—who also happened to be living with a girl he was fully sure that he was attracted to. He cleared his throat awkwardly and tried to refocus himself on the assignment. He gave up fifteen minutes later and ended up in bed early, he tried to ignore the slightest twinge in his stomach as he fell asleep. It was nothing.

 

The second time it happens, Peter can’t blame it on anything but pure emotion. It had been a long day for the both of them, finishing up some rather large projects that counted for more than  _ half _ of their grade—nothing special. He had pre-planned to take a long, hot, and steam-filled shower when his classes were over. He needed to relieve the tension in some way, showering in privacy seemed like the best option.

 

_ Wrong _ . The moment he enters the apartment, his key still hanging from the doorknob, he hears the shower running. He pulled his phone from his pocket and looked;  **_2:43 pm_ ** , it read. MJ told him yesterday that she wasn’t going to be done with classes until at least four in the afternoon. So much for  _ that _ , he thinks.

 

He tugs his key from the doorknob, closing the door. Peter starts grumbling to himself about never getting  _ any _ time to himself, sounding exactly like a kid who had just been told he couldn’t have the toy he wanted. Compromise is key, MJ always told him, like she was some kind of sexy Yoda, which to be fair,  _ she was _ . Peter needed to take into consideration that she was feeling the same stress he was. College life sucked.  _ Hard _ .

 

He was only a few baby steps from the door when he heard her and at first, it was low— barely audible. Peter didn’t want to invade her privacy but couldn’t help from pressing his ear against the door, caught off-guard by the slight him coming from inside.

 

“... _ thought I found a way _ ..” She sounded so soft, delicate. “ _ thought I’d find a way out _ .” He can hear her hum the chorus for a beat, her own voice drowning out the others. She continued like that for a while, finally letting her vibrato drown out the noise, “... _ need a place to hide, but I can’t find one near _ ...”

 

Peter felt like a creep, listening so intently, but he couldn’t help it. She was acting like  _ herself _ , alone and free from the judgement of others. She kept up a false facade to push others away, but Peter saw past it. Her voice was like a lullaby,—he couldn’t even  _ move _ —humming out the rest of the song.  _ Eventually _ , he managed to force himself away from the door, giving her the privacy she deserved. She stepped out a few minutes later, towel wrapped tightly around her body, pieces of her hair sticking to her face. He couldn’t tell the difference between the water from the shower or the sweat that had collected along her cheeks, her collarbones,—and Peter’s eyes began to drift, but he caught himself.

 

“When did you get here?” She’s suspicious, he catches on to it immediately.

 

“Uh, just now.” He jabs his thumb in the direction of the front door, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to— you know,” He doesn’t know what to say, blush creeping up his neck, he gestures around them vaguely hoping that MJ was smart enough to catch on. She was, but she was always a challenge.

 

“Chill, Parker.” She jokes, slapping the back of her hand against his chest. He feels a few drops of water splash his face, but he doesn’t give the  _ slightest _ fuck when MJ speaks again. “Anyways, it’s not like you haven’t seen me naked.”

 

He didn’t understand how she could go from hating him and not wanting to talk about anything even remotely related to their past— but then she said things like that and it confused the hell out of Peter. He couldn’t do anything but blink, at a complete loss for words. She wasn’t making this easy on him. “ _ Yeah _ .” His voice faltered and he was thankful that was the only word he could manage to get out. He was sure to embarrass himself had he said anything else. He quickly retreated to the room, door clicking hardly behind him. When he finally heard her footsteps fade, his limp body slid down the door, losing his footing along the way. His butt finally hit the floor, his breaths growing shallow. He felt like crying, laughing, and passing out all at once. MJ was capable of ruining Peter Parker in less than fifteen words and he  _ hated _ her for that. The twinge in his stomach was stronger this time, he wanted to double over, but he forced it away. He wasn’t going to let it get to him.

 

The last time it happened, Peter finally tapped out. He couldn’t take it. She was either  _ damn _ good at teasing him or completely unaware of everything she was doing, because it had started happening more and more each day. She never touched him, not intimately, but she did crave his closeness. Peter could be sitting on the couch reading or watching television and MJ would prop herself beside him, shoulders touching, and Peter never said a word—he wasn’t capable of it. Truthfully, he liked it too much to push her away. Some of the time, it would be the hot breath that lingered against the side of his face as she leaned over him, analyzing his work. He couldn’t bare the thought of looking her in the eye, so he didn’t— but if anyone ever asked, her breath always smells good, like honey and vanilla and  _ heaven _ . Why did she always smell  _ so _ good?

 

Peter was doing a good job at keeping himself together lately, until now. It was another boring Friday night, another night of not being invited to any parties, and Ned was always busy with work or Betty, so it left Peter and MJ to find something to bide their time until dawn. Peter suggested a movie, MJ hates the idea— she was very vocal, but she also didn’t have any better ideas. Peter told her to ‘suck it up, buttercup’ as politely as he could and MJ ended up punching him on the shoulder, a little  _ too _ hard. She apologized immediately after, but the sourpuss look was still plastered on her face. They had managed to get through half of the movie before Peter’s heart dropped in his stomach. He saw Michelle move suddenly, out of the corner of his eye. She shuffled uncomfortably for a few more seconds before huffing—and then she there. Her head settled in his lap, blanket wrapped around her body. She finally sighed in relief after a beat and Peter could feel his throat closing rapidly.

 

He clenched both of his hands into fists, resisting the urge to jump up. He was trying to convince himself this wasn’t weird and something friends did all the time. They cuddled,—well Ned and him never got to that point, but still—it was normal. He was trying so hard, he  _ was,  _ but his body was telling him otherwise. It was humiliating that it was even happening and like  _ this _ . He shifted awkwardly, trying to angle himself away from her head. He was straining against the thin material of his shorts, but not noticeable enough for her to tell. He had to do something— _ now _ .

 

“Uh, I have to pee.” He said suddenly, practically choking out the words. “ _ Okay _ .” MJ says slowly, pushing herself off him in a swift movement. Peter had never moved so fast in his life.

 

He closed the door louder than necessary, but that was the last thing on his mind. Peter wondered if death by embarrassment was an actual thing, because it felt possible right now. He started down at where the material had bunched up by his dick, adjusting himself.

 

“Seriously, dude,” He whispers to himself, “right now? Right  _ fucking _ now?”

 

He felt like pubescent teenage boy—there was no way this was  _ actually _ happening. If his dick could talk, it would definitely be say ‘Oh yes, it  _ is _ .’ If there were a list of worst possible times to get a hard-on, this was at the top.

 

“You’ve got really shitty timing.” He couldn’t believe he was talking to himself like this, it was  _ comical _ .

 

He figured it had to do with the fact that he hadn’t had sex in almost six months, not mention he hadn’t been touched by anything but his right hand since said time. He pouted, resting his head against the empty wall. He was sex deprived and fully ashamed of it. It’s not like Peter felt the need, but his body was having different thoughts. He had been pushing it off for so long that it was bound to happen at some point, which is mostly why he always tried to avoid prolonged touching with any girl,  _ especially _ MJ; she was nice enough to ignore the fact that he had spent a full half hour in the bathroom.

 

Peter didn’t say a word the rest of the night and neither did she.

  
  


####

 

Almost two months later and Peter had nearly forgotten the incident, though he didn’t think he every fully could. It was  _ mortifying _ . But, all of the essays and piles of paperwork were helping ease his nerves since had something else to focus on now.

 

“How many pages?!” Peter practically tosses his laptop across the bed, he clumsily reaches for it, but not before falling halfway off.

 

“30.” MJ was trying to hide her amusement. Peter silently thanked her for not making some snide remark about it.

 

They had both been slammed with reviewing material, extra assignments to catch up—not to mention cramming for the upcoming midterms. Peter and MJ were one big stress ball wrapped up in their little apartment. Strangely, they worked better under the stress of deadlines and looming exams. Peter was never a procrastinator, which he very much prided himself on. MJ was someone who could fit something in last minute and make it seem like she spent weeks preparing—total opposites. That’s why they worked so well. He would do the blunt work of most of their assignments and MJ would go back and revise and fix any mistakes Peter might have made or missed, he was a mess when he rushed things. But, it seemed like they’re professors were sought out on working them into their grave.

 

Not to mention, they haven’t seen sunlight in weeks—though, that  _ could _ be an exaggeration. Peter’s room had turned into a bat cave. Clothes were flung all over the place, papers scattered randomly, and a few balls that he would use to toss against the wall to keep him focused were laying askew. MJ didn’t understand how he was still able to find everything perfectly. He was like a tornado when he stressed out, having to do a million things at once when he worked.

 

“I know,” MJ sighed, pulling her hair up and twisting it into a bun. His heart warmed at the glimpse of the old Michelle, this was  _ all _ her. “It’s for Journalism.”

 

Peter nodded knowingly. Her professor for that class,  _ Smith _ , enjoyed pushing MJ to her limits. She had a lot of potential and he wanted to bring that out, even if it meant having to deal with grittier, dirtier topics that no one wanted. But, she was prepared to throw in the towel completely.

 

“What about?”

 

There’s a paused and MJ shifts her position against his door frame. She makes a face, scrunching her nose—then she looks at him.

 

“Sexual assault and rape on campus.”

 

_ Woah _ , heavy. Peter knows it’s a great topic because it brings light to things that most people fear to talk about, but he could tell MJ was noticeably uncomfortable with the idea of it. He watches her for a few seconds, shifting onto one leg, the other one propped up with his arm resting against his knee.

 

“Are you cool with that?” He’s curious, honestly, because Michelle never talks to him openly about how she feels on certain things. He might get an occasional nod or ‘ _ meh _ ’ every now and then to show her approval or not.

 

“I don’t have much of a choice.” He watches her shoulders slump, almost unnoticeable. “He is giving me an extension if I need one, though.”

 

Peter only nods, gently biting at the corner of his lip. He furrows his brow for a moment, breathes, and then she’s taking a seat beside him. It was the first time she had stepped more than two feet into his room since the beginning of August— it was almost October now.

 

“I just need to take my mind off of things for a while, even if it’s for one night.” She huffs, laying on her back. Her hands were resting loosely against her chest and Peter couldn’t help but watch the rise and fall of her hands as she breathed.

 

“What did you have in mind?” He offers a quizzical look, smiling softly. Peter didn’t want to admit that he needed the same thing— _ boy _ , did he need it. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth in thought, eyes lock with his.

 

Holy shit, it’s  _ happening _ . Peter was scrambling to prepare himself for her next few words, noticeable uneasy.

 

“Let’s go to a party.”

 

Peter was the king of not being able to read the room, he found out. He nods his head fervently, like he had been thinking the same exact thing.

 

“Tonight?”

 

“Tonight.”

 

He claps his hands together. They were in this together, always.

 

“Alright.” It was a simple word, but it meant so much to MJ.

 

“Really?” She’s grinning from ear to ear, “You want to go?”

 

“Well, I don’t want any drunk fraternity dudes trying to hit on my friend—who I’m sure is fully capable of handling herself— _ sooo, _ I’m going.”

 

She snorts, shoving gently at Peter’s face with her hand. He playfully shoves her back, starting a constant game of back and forth.

 

“Best friend, Peter. Me and you and Ned. You guys will always be the most important people in my life.  _ Always _ .”

 

There was that vomit-inducing feeling again. God, Peter hated how much his body liked to betray him. But, he wasn’t going to let it win him over. He was going to enjoy this moment.

 

“Oh,” MJ is suddenly jumping off the bed and prancing towards her room, “don’t forget your swim trunks.”

 

“What?”

 

“It’s a pool party, you  _ goof _ .”

 

_ Motherfucker _ .

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a psa: there are mentions of and eluding to rape in this story, so if that bothers any of you, i figured i would warn you now. it's nothing graphic or hard to read, but i definitely understand if you want to skip the chapter. i'll have another one up by the end of the week hopefully. 
> 
> i also really appreciate all of your comments (it's the sweetest thing ever)! 
> 
> this chapter was a bit of a tough one to write because i wanted to try and portray it without people getting the wrong idea, please let me know what you think! xo
> 
> also srry for my terrible typos

Peter was tying the string to his shorts when his phone rang from the bed. He groaned and reached for it, eyes almost popping out of his head when read the name on the screen.

 

**Tony Stark** .

 

Tony never called him on his personal cell. Well, Peter still had the number but that was only for emergencies and now Tony was calling him so, obviously, there was an emergency. Or so Peter thought. He answered the call and pressed the phone to his ear.

 

“Mr- Uh, Stark. Hey.” He wasn’t sure what to call Tony anymore—Mr. Stark, May’s boyfriend, god, who knew. He always settled for the more formal introduction. Plus, it just sounded cool.

 

“Kid, hey,” He can hear Mr. Stark take a deep breath on the other end before quickly whispering into the phone, “I don’t have much time but I’m calling about Aunt May.”

 

“May?! Is she okay? Please tell me she’s okay.” Usually, Peter was good at telling when things were wrong so, internally, he was freaking the  _ hell _ out.

 

_ “God,  _ no. She’s fine.” Tony confirms. He sounded taken back, like he wasn’t expecting to for Peter to jump to such a conclusion.

 

“Then what?” Peter deadpanned, wandering aimlessly around his room.

 

“Our anniversary is coming up.” Tony started and Peter cleared his throat, urging him to continue. “I want it to be nice, but I’m fresh out of ideas. I wanted to get her some flowers and—“

 

“No flowers.” Peter utters quickly, but he was talking to Tony Stark, he knew he was going to need to elaborate. “May  _ hates _ them. Uncle Ben used to give them to her every week... you know that vase in the corner of the kitchen of the apartment— the blue one.” Peter hears a pause and them some shuffling and he can only assume he’s in May’s apartment.

 

“Yeah, the one with those dead flowers she refuses to get... _ rid of. _ ” Realization dawns on Tony and he feels like an idiot. Peter nods silently, but remembers he’s on the phone and finally speaks up.

 

“ _ Yeah _ , those were the last ones he ever gave to her _.  _ I’ve tried to get her to throw them out, but eventually I gave up. It’s a touchy subject. But, if you really want to do something nice; a vacation.”

 

“Vacation?” Tony says like it’s some kind of foreign word.

 

“Yes. That thing you do to get away from your real life problems. Trust me, May needs it more than anyone else. She’s always worrying about everyone.”

 

There’s a knock on the door and Peter turns to seen MJ’s head peaking in. She’s got a smirk on her face like she’s ready to do something she shouldn’t.

 

“Is that  _ daddy Stark  _ on the phone’?” There it was. Peter went pale and tried to say something but he choked. It was easily the loudest thing MJ had ever said.

 

“What in the hell was—“

 

“MJ.” He clears his throat and scratches the back of his head.

 

“Who?” Was all he heard in return. To be fair, Mr. Stark and MJ had never officially met, but he has seen her before.

 

“Michelle Jones.” Peter explains, though he didn’t really want to.

 

He can hear Tony mumbling to himself before finally speaking again, “Tall? Hair in her face? Always has a book?” That was unbelievably spot on.

 

“ _ Yeah _ , actually.”

 

“Is she your girlfriend...or  _ something _ ?”

 

This was not the kind of conversation he wanted to be having with his aunt’s boyfriend.

 

“Oh,  _ no _ ! No, Tony—er, Mr. Stark... she’s my roommate.”

 

“ _ Smooth _ .” Michelle’s slick comment caught the attention of Peter who, in return, shoved his middle finger in her face before forcing the door closed and her out of the room.

 

_ “ _ It’s Tony, kid. You can call me Tony, it’s fine.”

 

“Well,  _ Tony _ , I actually have somewhere I need to be in ten minutes.” Peter silently prayed that he would just hang up and leave him be. His prayers were not answered.

 

“ _Oh_? Where is that?” Tony stays quiet for a moment before speaking again, “A party? It’s definitely a party.”

 

Peter didn’t say anything, which was enough conformation for Tony.

 

“Well, be responsible. Don’t drink, consent is  _ important _ , uh—“

 

“May is  _ so _ rubbing off on you. Bye, Tony.” And he was gone with a click. Peter took a long, deep breath before throwing himself on the bed. A few minutes later, he hears a knock at the door and doesn’t bother looking up because he already knows who’s behind it.

 

“Come on, we have to go.” MJ seems excited, but tense. He doesn’t want to pry, but he should. Shouldn’t he? Friends were always there for friends. Best friends, actually. MJ said it herself.

 

“Ned said no?” Peter had asked her to call him earlier in that day to see if he wanted to join. The chances were slim but it was still worth a shot to try.

 

“His parents are out of town and Betty was there. I didn’t wait for his answer—not that I needed it.” Michelle shuddered, trying to push past the mental image of two of her friends boning each other. Peter can’t help the chuckle the escapes him, causing MJ to glare in his direction.

 

“Don’t worry. I’m just as much a victim to their antics as you are.”

 

####

 

It didn’t take them more than fifteen minutes to walk from their complex to the house where the party was being hosted. Peter figured it was some fraternity house—which made no sense to how MJ was invited since he was her only friend besides Ned. He also hated the fact that she refused to drive there, something about being  _ safe _ and not driving drunk. Not that either of them had really planned on drinking. She was just taking the necessary measures.

 

Peter also couldn’t contain himself over the sight of Michelle in a small, yellow bikini. It didn’t leave much to imagine... and now he was feeling like a creep. It tied over one shoulder while the other lay bare, the bottoms hugging to her hips. He hated how effortlessly amazing she looked all the time. Peter had on some simple black swim shorts with a white shirt helping him keep some of the decency he had left. He was never a huge fan of pool parties, especially after puberty. Peter hit a growth spurt pretty late, but his body had somehow managed to keep itself ahead of everything else. So, when he was fifteen, a squeaky voice and a set of over-defined abs did not work well together. It only led to Flash constantly bullying him about how scrawny he looked all the time. But since then, Peter had managed to fill himself out enough to where his body looked more proportional. It wasn’t news to MJ, she had seen him shirtless a few times since living together, but Peter tried to keep it minimal.

 

“How did you get invited again?” Peter asks for the third time, finally arriving at the doorstep.

 

“Some girl,” she elaborate in a half-ass, not really paying attention kind of voice, “I help her in English a lot, we’re not really friends, but—- her boyfriend is in the fraternity. She asked if I wanted to come and I said yes. Capiche?”

 

“Yeah.” Peter answers simply, putting his head down. He always felt out of place at parties because everyone always disappeared on him,  _ always _ . 

 

The party the weekend before senior year, for example: He had went with all of the decathlon club and their dates (aside from MJ who never brought dates and Ned, who hadn’t got with Betty yet)— still ended up sitting by himself in the corner of the room, But he did get to talk to Liz that night,  _ barely _ . He figured everyone was trying to have fun and he was being the negative one, which was probably true. Parties always ended with cops, bad decisions, and terrible impending hangovers.  _ Yeah _ , he was definitely being negative.

 

“I don’t even know anyone here,” she says casually, grabbing Peter’s wrist as they walk through the threshold, “so don’t stray to far in case I need a diversion plan.”

 

“For what?” Peter choked, shoving his way through the crowd of people.

 

“I don’t know.” she shrugs, finally finding a place in the back of the room that wasn’t crowded by partygoers, “I mean you can wander around if you want, but you’re the only person I really know—“

 

Before she can react, MJ is being swept off her feet by two dudes—much larger than Peter—and swung into the pool. The two were gone before Peter even made his way outside, leaving MJ in the pool looking annoyed.

 

“What the hell?” Peter asks aloud, jogging over to offer MJ a hand to pull her up. She huffs and pulls the hair back that’s sticking to her face and neck.

 

“You made it!” They both turn their heads towards the voice and see a petite girl with red hair walking towards them, beer cup in hand.

 

“Yeah.” MJ deadpans, flipping her hair to one side to squeeze out the water.

 

“Oh,  _ lighten up _ , Em!” The girl giggles and turns to Peter, who looks dejected.

 

“And you,” She tugs gently at his shirt, “take this off. It’s a pool party, you two. It’s supposed to be fun. People get thrown in all the time. I already did, see,” She motioned to the wet hair sitting on her head and the mascara running down her face, “don’t be so  _ depressing _ .”

 

The girl quickly disappears and reappears before Michelle and Peter could even process what was happening. Two red plastic cups are shoved into their hands and the smaller girl is looking at them expectantly.

 

“Drink up. I’ll be checking on you two later.” And with a wink she’s gone.

 

“Don’t ask.” MJ suddenly says, pointing a finger at Peter. “She’s always like that.”

 

“That’s just—she’s just...  _ a lot _ .” Peter huffs out, not realizing as he took a sip of the beer in his cup.

 

MJ raises an eyebrow and softly punches his chest. “If you’re gonna drink, might as well take your shirt off too.”

 

“But, I don’t want to—“ She didn’t bother to hear the rest and started undressing Peter before he could react and now he was standing in only his swim shorts. MJ threw the shirt elsewhere—so much for  _ that _ . He watches as MJ quickly chugs the beer down and throws the cup out of sight.

 

“If I’m loosening up, so are you, Parker.” MJ takes the cup and guides it to Peter’s mouth—he doesn’t mind drinking it, he’s just not sure if he should. But, he didn’t have much of a choice and forced it all down until MJ finally let go of the cup.

 

“Who even are you?” Peter asked letting out a loud burp, not even because he had to, but he knew MJ hated when he did it. 

 

“We wanted to have fun. We’re going to have  _ fun _ .” It sounded like MJ was telling herself that, more than Peter. 

 

“Which one of us are you talking to?” Peter was trying to act bold for once—never a good choice.

 

MJ grabbed his arm and twisted him around but he had a death grip on her wrist, suddenly he was stumbling over the edge of the pool and falling underwater with her. The only thing he could think about was that he hadn’t gotten to take his shoes off yet. He resurfaced, drawing in a large breath. If he would have seen it coming, maybe his nostrils wouldn’t be burning from the chlorine right now. But, when he made eye contact with MJ his mind went completely blank. Her eyes were closed and she was pushing her hair out of her face. She was laughing, smiling  _ so _ big that Peter couldn’t help but smile too. 

 

_ “ _ The both of us.” She says after she catches her breath.

 

Peter ended up having to throw his shoes away half-way through the night because someone ended up vomiting up ninety percent of their alcohol on them, thankfully he was also too drunk to care. But as for MJ, she wasn’t wasted nor buzzed and continued to sip on the beer she held in her hands. She let Peter wander around casually flirting with girls—it was odd, a new side to him that she had never seen other than with her, but they were close and it was okay—and he even got a few numbers that would be lost by the end of the night. It didn’t bother MJ that he was talking to a lot of the girls at the party—well, it  _ did _ . She couldn’t lie because it did cause a small twinge in her heart where she wished it had been her but things were so  _ fucked up _ between them that she didn’t know where to start. Michelle had so many thoughts running through her head that she didn’t realize there was a hand on her body until Peter made he contact with her—who, even drunk, was  _ still _ keeping a watchful eye out for Michelle.

 

“Hands off, dude.” MJ practically shoved him across the patio, but that did nothing. He was stalking back towards her like prey and MJ had to fight the urge to scream. But, when she finally got a good look at him—her heart stopped.

 

“You.” She grits out, he was tall, dark hair, and wearing an older hoodie that read ‘Midtown High School, Class of 2018’.Peter and MJ graduated a year later, which had to of meant she knew him somehow. She  _ did _ , but none of her memories were pleasant.

 

_ ### _

 

**_(flashback)_ **

**_(the weekend before the first day of senior year)_ **

 

“Liz!” Ned, Peter, and MJ practically yelled when they saw her across the room. She had kept in some contact with them after she moved to Oregon, but this was the first they had seen of her since.

 

“What are you doing here?” MJ asked when they had made it over to Liz. she was always the one to asking the more pressing questions that no one wanted to.  _ Losers _ . She was talking about Ned and Peter, who were staring at Liz like a couple of lost puppies.

 

Her and Peter had gotten close since Liz left. She wasn’t thankful for her leaving, but it probably wouldn’t have happened if she stayed. They weren’t together or exclusive, or whatever people wanted to label it as. They were friends, best friends—who just happened to make out  _ a lot _ . It was weird and MJ couldn’t explain it to you if you asked, but things were good. She could still joke around and make fun of him, but vent to him when she needed to. It was a good balance.  _ Unhealthy _ . But, good. So when she sees Peter staring at her, she has to fight back the urge to let her feelings get the best of herself. Michelle hadn’t been able to figure that out yet.

 

“We’re visiting some family in town,” Liz shrugs, crossing her arms, “but, I’m here with Betty. She figured it would be good for me to see some of my old friends.”

 

“Is it?” Peter asks and it was the crack in his voice that made MJ turn and stare at him. His voice only cracked like that when he was nervous.

 

“Yeah, it is.” She smiled, turning her attention to MJ. She tried to force a smile but it wasn’t working. Liz turned to ask one of the guys she had been talking to, to bring her a couple beers for her and MJ. Michelle was sort of thankful for the fact that she didn’t offer beer to the boys. They were already embarrassing enough sober. The mystery guy was back a few minutes later, and despite her better judgement, she drinks it. Maybe she could catch up with Liz—talk about Peter,  _ maybe _ . Or not. MJ never had close girlfriends, so she didn’t understand how it all worked.

 

Both her and Liz had lost Peter and Ned at some point throughout the night and ended up in a room inside the guest house in the backyard. Some of the kids at the school were to rich for their own good, with parents who cared too little to monitor what they’re children were doing. It was there own fault.

 

They both had their backs against the mattress, talking about school, college, and everything they were stressing about (and maybe Peter,  _ briefly _ ). It made MJ freak out anytime she talked about it, so she was thankful that the alcohol was relaxing her so much—though, she was finding it harder to keep herself awake. She blamed that on all the late nights she spent on the phone talking to Peter lately.

 

“Hey, I have to pee.” Her body was betraying her and she didn’t want to get up, but she did. “I’ll be back.”

 

“Okay.” Liz sighs, rolling over onto her side to pull out her phone. “Take your time.”

 

MJ nods uneasily before closing the door and locking it. She quickly relieves herself before standing in front of the sink, turning the water on. She looked hammered—her parents were going to kill her. She breathed out a shaky sigh and spoke to herself.

 

“You need to stop being a crybaby and tell him how you feel or else he’s going to find some else,” She stops for a second, looking down, “someone  _ better _ , who actually has the guts to—“

 

There was screaming and the sound of wood breaking and metal clanking on the floor. You would have to be inside the house to hear it, considering the music coming from the main house was drowning out everything else. She went to grab for the door handle to peak outside, but stopped. Her body was frozen and she couldn’t move, even though everything else was telling her ‘ _ MOVE! Do something! _ ’. She could hear screams from the other side of the door and MJ had to hold back the sob that tried to escape because she knew exactly what was happening.

 

She quickly flicked the light switch off, creaking the door open enough to see. She was so thankfully that this place didn’t have squeaky doors or she would’ve been caught. MJ can’t stop the tears that escape her eyes as she looks into the open room. Liz was laying on the bed, practically limp. MJ was gripping the sink counter so forcefully that she didn’t realize her hand was bleeding until it started dripping on her skirt. She scanned the room further, finding a man talking to someone outside before he rushes back inside, blocking the door with a table.

 

Michelle had always prepared herself for a situation like this, which was an unfortunate reality for women, but equally as important. She would fight him off, go get help, save her friend. But, everything in her body was telling her not to. She couldn’t move, only sob to herself in silence. She wanted to tell him to stop, stop  _ hurting _ her, that she didn’t ask for this. It was like her voice was gone and she couldn’t get it back. Everything she had every thought about doing or wanted to do had left her mind. A big part of her was too scared of having the same exact fate and it  _ terrified _ her. She needed to go. Leave and get help. Do  _ something _ . Because if she stayed there any longer she would be caught and MJ was too scared to let that happen. 

 

Suddenly, there’s a loud commotion outside, causing the man to still and look around. What a piece of shit, she thinks. MJ finds it a good time to run, so she does. He doesn’t notice her until she’s halfway out the door, but he’s faster than her so he catches her easily and then she’s screaming, finding her voice.

 

“LIZ! LIZ, WAKE UP!” She’s yelling but there’s no response. He throws her violently against the floor, causing MJ to gasp for air. She blindly reaches behind her for something,  _ anything  _ that would help defend herself. Her hands find something small, metal, easy enough to grab in her hand. She swings and it meets his face, causing him to scream in pain. It was a wine opener, she realized afterwards. The gash on his face was ghastly and it almost made her gag, but she had to find the strength to push herself and help Liz. She quickly jabs him in the crotch with her knee, causing him to roll over in pain.

 

MJ bolts across the room towards Liz, who was starting to stir. She didn’t have time to try and wake her, so she slings her over her shoulder and drags her out of the house, shoving the table with her foot. She feels it hit the attacker on the floor and she’s proud for once. But, her focus turns towards Liz, who’s finally awake and not aware of anything that had previously happened.

 

“What’s going on?” Liz asks but MJ ignores her, dragging her out of sight through the backyard and through the gate on the side. It was better to get her out of here,  _ immediately _ . “Why are you covered in blood?”

 

She was so angry she had forgotten about the pain, or maybe that was the adrenaline. Both, probably. She was more focused on getting Liz and herself safe.

 

“I’ll explain later. First we’re gonna go back to my place.” She hears Liz laugh from her side, causing her to look. It was the drinks, MJ suddenly realized. She’s beating herself up over it now, for not being smarter and making better choices. She got so caught up in the moment with Liz and Peter—just,  _ everything— _ so much that she didn’t care what happened. But, she hadn’t drank nearly as much as Liz had. MJ had only took a sip or two, where Liz had chugged a few cups—all while those guys were probably drugging a bunch of girls at the party, including them.

 

The rest of the night was horrible and Michelle spent most of it cuddling up to Liz, who hadn’t stopped crying since she explained everything happened when she finally felt coherent enough to talk. Liz swore to her that she would keep it a secret, something MJ would never be comfortable with, but agreed to. Liz had even offered to patch up her hand, even if the cut wasn’t that bad. She had practically saved her life, something Liz would never forget. But, neither of them would realize the toll this would take on them--physically and mentally.

  
  
  


###

 

**(present)**

 

The scar across his right cheek was enough of an indication to alert MJ, who suddenly couldn’t decide whether to run or make the situation about ten times worse. She was hoping he was drunk enough to not recognize her. She was wrong.

 

“Oh, hey.” He spoke casually and MJ took a few steps back, but the stoic look on her face never changed. She quickly glanced back at Peter, who could see the silently pleading look in her eye. She could feel her body starting to lock up again and the older man dragged his fingertips across her stomach and up along the side of her breast. “You look familiar--I’ve seen you before, right?”

 

Her fists are clenched at her side, but she relaxes when she feels Peter’s calloused hands intertwine with her own. She finds herself leaning back as he breathes along her neck, “Should I explain this scar to your little boyfriend or do you want to come with me? We have some business to finish, I think.” She could see Peter growing suspicious even though he couldn’t hear anything the other man was saying to her. But, him breathing down her neck was enough to alert Peter. His hand swung back and made contact with his jaw, causing him to stumble and lose any coherency he once had. Peter finds the chance to bolt and he does, dragging her with him. They stumbled and pushed through sweaty bodies, the front door was feeling so far away despite the fact that they could both see it in front of them. Peter was shoving and pushing people out of the way, all while protecting Michelle with his body--not the she couldn’t do it herself, but she was allowing Peter to be the person she needed right now.

 

Somehow, they managed to make it out. She waited until they were three blocks away before they finally stopped running. Her chest was burning and she felt her arms going numb--tingly, more so. She felt like passing out, everything was telling her to let go. Peter had seemed to sober up after the hit, his hands suddenly gripping both of her shoulders. There was panic in his expression, through his eyes. He had an over-expressive face, something MJ loved and Peter hated. She could always tell when he was lying or up to something. But, right now, they were pleading. 

 

MJ had been trying so hard to focus her breathing, every negative and terrifying memory of everything that happened two years ago was flooding back and she couldn’t make it stop. She was sobbing and broken in front of Peter, who seemed to be trying to keep himself together too. 

 

He never wanted to overstep, but the only thing running through his mind was to kiss her. It would take her mind off of everything else. But, kissing her could also make it worse--maybe she didn’t want to be kissed, especially after what happened. His body decided against his better judgement and his lips were crashing against her own.

 

It wasn’t slow or careful--not at all. His hand fisted into her hair, pulling her tight against his chest. There was intent behind his movements, a surprising sense of force behind the kiss that caught MJ by surprise. Leave it to  _ Peter _ to be the one do that. Their noses were bumping against each other, chests rising and falling quickly and before MJ could pull him closer, he was pulling away. His warm, caramel eyes were staring her own like she was the  _ only _ thing that mattered. Peter had managed to kiss the fear and anger out of her so fast that it gave her whiplash.

 

“Please don’t hit me.” He pleaded, cringing and holding his arms in front of himself defensively.

 

“I’m not.” MJ says, a little breathless. Peter almost passed out right there, the sight of MJ trying to catch her breath because of him. Peter. The actual Peter Parker. But she lied, punching him playfully in the chest. “Starting now.”

 

“I didn’t know what else to do, I wasn’t trying to--” 

 

“Overstep?” Peter nods and backs away. “It’s okay. You saved me from having a full-on panic attack.”

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” His voice is soft and he’s motioning his hands around like he always does when he talks, “Like, what the hell happened back there? Who was he?”

 

Michelle breathed in a long, shaky breath before looking up at Peter. It was a loaded question that she didn’t feel like unpacking right now.

 

“No, I don’t. Not yet, anyways. I don’t know-- it’s  _ complicated _ .”

 

Peter understands and stays quiet, shoving his hands in his pockets. He nods his head towards the sidewalk, waiting for MJ to find the strength to start walking again. She does, but she’s using Peter as support, leaning on him the entire way back. He wasn’t complaining.

 

“And the kiss?” Peter asks suddenly as they near the apartment complex. He could have lied and said he was only curious, but he really wanted to know how she felt--even if they were both pretty buzzed. It was the only way he could get an honest answer out of MJ.

 

“No.”

 

“What?”

 

“We’re not talking about it.”

 

So much for that. Michelle had been through a lot tonight, he wasn’t going to try and push it. She would talk when she was ready, like she always did.

 

“Turns out I did have to come in and save the day after all.” He speaks up again when they walk through the door of their apartment.

 

“Yeah, actually,” MJ was still reeling from the events of the party, “That was kind of amazing. That guy was like-- _ what _ \--a foot taller than you and twice your size. How the hell did you manage to clock his ass so hard?”

 

Peter shrugged because he honestly had no idea. It could’ve been the adrenaline, or the anger, or Peter just really wanting to kick someone’s ass.

 

“I’m not trying to insult you, but  _ Old Peter _ , he would’ve never be able to do that.” 

 

“Yeah,” He drops the keys on the coffee table, following her down the hall to their separate rooms, “I haven’t been Old Peter for a long time.” And then he closes his door, leaving her standing in the hall. Suddenly, all the emotion was rushing back and all she wanted to do was cry herself to sleep. So, she did. 

  
Neither of them said anything when Peter snuck into her room to lay beside her later that night--fully showered and clothed, letting her cry until her eyes finally slipped shut. He would always just be  _ Peter _ for her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayyy... okay, bye. *fades into dust*


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter seems a little all over the place but i still like how it came out. enjoy!
> 
> also sorry for my typos, i suck.

When dawn broke, it was Peter who woke up to any empty bed. He looked around and realized that nothing was familiar and there wasn’t any possible reason for him to suddenly have lilac sheets and a purple comforter covering his bed. He blindly grabbed for his phone, squinting his eyes to look at the _too_ bright LED screen. He audible groaned and tossed it to his side, which he realized was vacant. He slowly pushed himself up, looking around for no _real_ reason. Peter’s head was pounding—why did he even agree to go the party? Oh, right... for MJ. He didn’t want to let her down, not again. He struggled to grasp his bearings as he stood up, the hardwood floor creaking beneath his feet. His hands rubbed against his naked chest and down further and—holy _shit._ His clothes were a mess on the floor and he was standing still, in his boxers. Almost _naked_. There was _no_ way. 

 

Peter quickly snatched his pajama bottoms and pulled them, throwing the shirt in the laundry basket at the end of the hall when he walked out. He rubbed his eyes hard enough to see stars and yawned.  _ God _ , he needed an aspirin. 

 

_ “ _ I bought you a coffee and a bagel with cream cheese from the coffee shop down the street.” He looks up and sees MJ shoving a small paper bag in his direction, placing the cup in his hands when he’s close enough.

 

“You’re amazing.” Peter tells her, “Like,  _ beyond _ amazing.”

 

She snorts and continues to type away on her computer before suddenly digging in her pocket. She must have forgotten where she put what she was looking for because she starts digging in the other pocket and then another one before she finally pulls out a small package. 

 

“Here.” MJ hands the packet over that and Peter gawks at her. “We didn’t have any aspirin in the apartment and I figured you were going to need it.”

 

He doesn’t say much else, only staring at her for a moment too long before finally demolishing his food and coffee in a matter of minutes. Peter appreciates women,  _ so _ much. Especially women like MJ. He didn’t even have to speak and MJ knew what he was thinking. It was the best feeling. But, know he was staring at her with a curious expression, his eyes not wanting to meet her own, because did they—had they actually...

 

“We didn’t have sex.” MJ blurts out in a  _ much _ too casual tone, the room silent. The typing on her laptop had stopped and she was looking at him.

 

Peter has to stifle the sigh of relief that escapes him. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to have sex with Michelle, not at all. He didn’t think he had the nerve in him to  _ actually _ do it, considering the respect he had for her. Drunk sex was different from actual sex. Even drunk, he never planned to make a move on her. Peter just wasn’t that guy. May had raised him to be better than that.

 

“You got hot last night,” she starts to explain, typing away on her laptop again, “so you started taking your clothes—all of them,  _ actually _ . But, I stopped you before you got completely naked. You fell back asleep right after.”

 

“And did you—you know... sleep okay?”

 

“Yeah.” MJ lies, most of her focus on the assignment in front of her. Sure, she slept okay, if you aren’t considering the fact that she’s been up since three in the morning, right around the time that Peter decided to start his strip show.

 

Truthfully, she couldn’t handle it. It was too much at once and MJ didn’t feel safe or stable enough to allow herself to stay there,  _ next _ to him, being comforted by  _ him _ . It scared the life out her because for the first time in a while—she felt  _ safe _ . The kind of safe that made her feel warm and adored and loved. She  _ wanted _ it _.  _

 

She hears Peter grimace to himself and it catches her attention. MJ looks up to see Peter cradling his hand—the one he had used to punch ‘said asshole’ in the face several hours ago.

 

“ _ Right _ ,” MJ breaths, interrupting her own work to grab a small baggie and stuff some ice in it, “somebody came to my rescue last night.”

 

“Doesn’t come without a cost.” Peter smiles and MJ feels the knot in her throat begging to swell. She wanted to cry again.

 

“You remember?” With the amount of alcohol Peter had consumed, MJ couldn’t be sure.

 

“Most of it,  _ yeah _ .” He says, cradling his hand closer to his chest. “The important stuff, anyways—like me punching that  _ huge _ guy, your panic attack and stuff.”

 

And  _ stuff _ ...

 

“So... _ everything _ ?” 

 

There was a long period of silence before Peter finally looks at her and speaks. MJ had really hoped he would forget all of it and neither of them would have to face the problem. The problem being their feelings, not just in general, but towards each other. 

 

“I remember going into your room last night, but nothing after I passed out next to you. I could hear you crying from my room—I figured it was better if you weren’t alone.”

 

MJ doesn’t say a word, she doesn’t even have the courage to look away. She was mesmerized by the gleam in his eyes, how honest they were. MJ trusted Peter with her life. He would never hurt her. But, she would hurt him. She hurt everyone.

 

“I’m always alone.” She mumbles.

 

She had been working on the assignment for her Journalism class for the past eight hours with little to no sleep. She felt delirious, like none of this was actually happening. It was so hard for her to get any words on to the screen. She felt stuck. MJ never got stuck.

 

“No.” Peter says, his voice is stronger despite the sleep in it. “You’re  _ not _ .”

 

She looks at him, almost sympathetic. Peter wasn’t going to put up with her self-pity, because he knew she deserved so much more. He would give her the world if it was possible.

 

“You don’t get to do that.” It startles MJ, but he’s serious. She knows that. “You don’t get to close yourself off after one night. It was a kiss. One kiss out of the  _ hundreds _ that we’ve had.”

 

It was like someone had shoved a knife through the hollow part of her heart, which she had saved for Peter a long time before.

 

“We talk this out. Like adults. You can’t keep ignoring everything like it doesn’t matter—it does. I’ve been here almost three months and not once have I even tried to ask you about what happened—“

 

“Stop! Please—just,  _ STOP _ .” Michelle slammed her laptop closed, bring it to her side.

 

She wasn’t in the right mind state to argue or talk to him. She would regret half of the shit she would say and that wasn’t going to help the situation. MJ never listened to her better judgement.

 

“We have to talk about it eventually.” Peter never once raised his voice at her, she was thankful. But, it also felt like she was being scolded as a child would. She was not a child.

 

“Talk about what?” She asks, knowing damn well she knew. “Our feelings? We’re adults,  _ remember _ ? This isn’t high school.”

 

“I’m leaving. Don’t try to call or text me.” Was all Peter said to her before he was rushing to his bedroom to change and out the door minutes later.

 

What the hell had she done?

 

###

 

October passed painstakingly slow. So slow that Michelle started counting the threads on the couch pillows every night, just to pass the time. She hates this. Peter hating her, her hating Peter. But, it wasn’t  _ hate _ . They were being bitter children fighting over a game they both lost. But, it hurt MJ more to see him like this—silent, like she didn’t even exist around him most of the time. Aside from the occasional ‘hey’ or groan she gets in acknowledgment—radio silence. She wasn’t going to cave first, there was no way.

 

MJ managed to turn her Journalism assignment in on time with only a few revisions. She got a B—what a  _ bitch _ , she thinks. She poured most of her heart into the assignment, not to mention how long it took to write and rework. She only hoped that it never got our, or read, or seen by anyone other than her professor. She did threaten him about it, but only a  _ little _ . She’s made a lot of bad decisions, some of which she preferred not to relive—though she knew it was impossible. She gets through the first two weeks fine. She’s passing her midterms, involving herself in  _ actual _ school activities. It’s almost like she can’t even recognize herself, but maybe that was for the best. 

 

And she doesn’t bring up the fact that the Monday after Peter stormed out, he comes back in the same clothes—he also hadn’t showered, apparently—and a set of keys. It seemed he had taken her advice after all. Unfortunately, the Audi parked in the parking spot beside her own car—a Jeep her parents had got her for graduation—didn’t look out of place next to all the other expensive cars. The perks of living near a bunch of spoiled rich kids. MJ thinks about apologizing, but the moment fades and she’s sinking back on to the couch.

 

He’s nowhere to be found (or doesn’t want to be found) during classes, either. Well, that’s a lie—she  _ does _ see him. He has a hoodie pulled over his head and intentionally ducks out of her way when he sees her. MJ acts like it doesn’t bother her, but it does. This was  _ her _ fault after all _... right? _

 

And when the final days of October approach, it’s like a punch in the gut. Every time she had seen Peter walk down the halls or across the lawn in front of the main campus building, she wished she could lose him in the crowd—unfortunately, he stood out like a sore thumb. They had spoken a total of twenty word over the course of almost four weeks— _ yes _ , she counted. Everything about Peter made her second guess, it had been like that since high school. She hated the thought of guys,  _ college _ guys at that. But, he shattered every expectation or assumption she had. He was... Peter, and that was the only way she could describe.

 

Halloween finally approaches and now she’s staring at the Princess Leia bikini costume that Peter had got her as a joke after their date— _ shit _ , she was still calling it that. Everyone knew MJ hated Halloween, the skimpy outfits—but here she was,  _ more _ than ready to oblige to the spirit of Halloween.

 

MJ can hear Peter and Ned in his room down the hall whispering—or whatever they thought whispering was—about why MJ should or shouldn’t come. She squeezed the door knob tightly, jumping when there’s a knock on the other side. She quickly opens the door, just a crack, to find Ned standing on the other side in all his costume glory. They had all planned to dress up as characters from Star Wars—MJ still hated the movie. But, she loved her friends more than she hated the movies—love always out wins hate.  _ Mostly _ . 

 

_ “ _ Peter still doesn’t want to talk to you—which,  _ ridiculous _ —so I’m asking for him.” Ned starts, clearing his throat and forcing his best Peter Parker impression. “I’m sorry that I’m such an idiot and will you please go with us to the party?”

 

“I don’t even sound like that.” Peter mumbles lowly across the hall.

 

“I don’t know,” MJ laughs, opening the door wider and leaning against the door frame. “Don’t think I can handle that many dorks in one place. I can’t even stand you two.”

 

Ned looks appalled and not even a second later, Peter is yelling from behind the door at her.

 

“You’re lying and you  _ fucking _ know it.” It sounded way too vulgar than Peter intended, but he immediately realized what he had done and freezes.

 

“ _ HA _ .” Ned and MJ say at the same time, kicking the door open to glare at Peter, both extending a finger towards him. “You talked.”

 

“Finally.” Ned grumbles, walking towards the living room, leaving the two of them alone.

 

MJ suddenly feels Peter’s eyes on her, not judging or glaring—watching. She can feel her entire body shaking so she quickly retreats, hiding behind her bedroom door. She briefly glances at the costume on the bed and sighs. It’s one night.  _ Fuck _ it.

 

_ #### _

 

MJ immediately feels the need to cover herself. The bikini doesn’t leave much to imagine with the curve of her small breasts and butt on full display. She even had to look up a picture to make sure that this— _ this _ was what it was supposed to look like. MJ forced any negativity she was holding in, out. The sheer material hanging over the front and back her bottom piece helped a little, but  _ barely _ . She didn’t bother tying her hair up, letting it fall past her shoulders—naturals curls and all. She didn’t bother with make up either, considering she barely owned any. She thought about giving herself a pep talk, but opted out.

 

It was time to stop overthinking and do something for herself. She at least deserved  _ that _ . Plus, Peter had ignored her for almost a month and it was killing her. She  _ was _ going to fix things. 

 

When she finally walks out of her room, she can hear the boys shuffling in the living room. They were talking about her, no doubt. They weren’t very good at hiding it.

 

“About time, du—“

 

Ned chokes on his drink so hard that it comes out of his nose and Peter can’t even think—he’s staring. He’s staring at her and she’s staring back. Suddenly, Ned’s persistent coughing brings them back to reality and Peter tries comforting his friend by patting his back.

 

“Don’t tell Betty about that.” He struggles to say, wiping his face. “She would kill me.”

 

Michelle only shrugs, smiling in return. She takes the chance to glance over at Peter, who is still standing there again... and staring. She’s shifting awkwardly against the hardwood floor, the cheap sandals digging into the backs of her feet.

 

“...Peter?” Ned’s whistling now, waving his hand in front of Peter’s face. “Earth to Peter?”

 

Peter clears his throat suddenly, starting Ned. His jaw is tense and MJ knows he wants to say something—but he doesn’t. He’s dressed up as Han, how ironic.

 

What? All the movies and she had to  _ at least _ pick up on some things—still doesn’t mean she enjoyed it.

 

But, Ned as Luke made her chuckle. It was the cutest thing and she could tell they both put a lot of effort into the costumes. Not her, though.

 

“ _ Hmm _ , yeah. Let’s go.” Peter says quickly, grabbing his keys. He’s out of the door before Ned and MJ can even process what’s happening.

 

“You two are totally boning tonight.” Ned smirks, matter-of-factory. “Like, total angry ‘I hate you, but I’m so into’—“ He yells when MJ smacks him on the back of the neck. It was so loud that she could hear Peter chuckle from outside. Her face turned bright red at the thought of Peter hearing Ned.

 

She hated them so much.

 

It’s five minutes later when they finally manage to squeeze into Peter’s new car. She figured she might ask why he finally took Mr. Stark up on his offer, but that was for a later time. She wanted the night to play out naturally—as much as it could.

 

MJ hates awkward car rides and this  _ has _ got to be the worst. Peter is shifting uncomfortably in the driver's seat and it’s blatantly obvious that he’s bothered by something—and poor Ned. He’s still holding the back of his neck and scrolling through his phone.  _ Yeah _ , it’s probably better if he stayed quiet the rest of the ride anyways. She feels the back of her thighs sticking to the tan leather seats, grumbling a string of obscenities that catches the attention of Peter, who has the smallest hint of a smile on his face. But, it disappeared as quickly as Michelle noticed it.

 

It’s  _ progress _ .

 

####

 

“So you just have to throw the ball into one of those cups and—“

 

Peter glares at MJ, who’s hovering over his shoulder. He wasn’t bothered by her being so close, but it was something—she couldn’t figure it out. They still hadn’t talked about what was really bothering them, but they were talking—MJ could settle for that. She did start the fight, anyways.

 

“I know how to play beer pong, Em.”

 

MJ never thought she could be simultaneously relieved and turned on by the mention of Peter’s nickname for her—not that it actually turned her on, it’s just— _ okay _ , it did. Her body was betraying what her brain kept telling her for, probably, the millionth time tonight.

 

He manages to miss the shot and MJ smirks, bumping him out of the way with her hip. Peter stumbles slightly, crossing his arms—maybe he was still a  _ little _ angry. But, he’s even angrier by the time all of the cups have been consumed on the other side, all landed by MJ.

 

She shakes her hips in a way that Peter could only describe as sinful. He hated the annoyingly persistent sexual tension between them all the time. The slight bulge he had been sporting all night was becoming a bigger problem (thankfully, no one pointed it out)—and he felt like an ass for sexualizing MJ so much. But, he was looking at her, really looking at her—it was like the best sex dream he could ever have, minus the sex. 

 

The moment is interrupted by Ned pulling her over to the rest of the crowd, who had already joined in on a big dance party. It was a bunch of drunk, sweaty college students rubbing up against each other and—Peter really needed to relax.

 

MJ is swaying with the rest of them, sticking close to Ned. Her hand is in the air over head and she’s swaying along to some rap song that no one can understand.

 

This was the Michelle Jones he wished he could see all the time—not giving a fuck about anything and doing it all for herself. She was enjoying something, for  _ once _ . It was like her dancing through the apartment all over again. Peter couldn’t stay angry like this forever, it was impossible. And then MJ’s grabbing for his hand and pulling him towards her. It’s awkward at first, but he figures it out. 

 

Eventually, Ned disappears to the restroom, which was definitely planned because it’s Ned—when wasn’t he trying to set these two up for disaster? 

 

Everything that was happening was real.  _ Very _ real, in fact, and all conscious decisions being made considering none of them had been drinking. Reality was setting in for Peter and he doesn’t know if MJ realizes it when her hips graze his—he jerks way too hard at that. She’s smiling, running her fingers through her hair and pulling it up over her head. And god, the view of her naked back made Peter want to drop to his knees right then. He was in  _ so _ much trouble.

 

She’s turning towards him in an instant as the song changes to something similar, but slower—almost  _ dirtier _ . Her bottom lips is caught between her teeth and she’s swaying her his dangerously close to his groin. His hands find a place to rest on her hips and he’s stiffer than a board.

 

Was he supposed to touch her? Did she want that? Was she testing him?

 

His eyes were searching for her own and for the first time that night they’re looking at each other. Really,  _ really _ seeing each other. It’s almost too much and Peter feels his body giving out on him.

 

And the she’s leaning in and Peter feels  _ royally _ fucked.

 

“Ned’s watching,” MJ whispers against his earlobe, hot breath ghosting against his neck, “don’t disappoint.”

 

“He’s such a shit, sometimes.” Peter manages to choke out, but it sounded casual enough that it didn’t alarm Michelle—not that she couldn’t already feel him against her thigh.  _ God _ , they were so close. Peter has to force some distance between the two of them, but not noticeable enough for her to say anything. She was going to tease him about it, he knew that.

 

“He’s hoping we hook up tonight.”

 

Peter nods shakily, looking at her. He’s barely taller than her, but he feels so small. What was she trying to do? Kill him?

 

“Flip him off at the same time?” She asks suddenly and Peter laughs. There she was.

 

He nods and glances over at his friend. MJ starts a countdown in his ear, inching close to his lips. For a second he thinks about going for it—seizing the moment. But, she’s already at one and then they’re shoving their middle fingers in the direction of where Ned is standing and they see him slump. He casually throws up both hands, returning the gesture.

 

“You good?” She asks suddenly, for no real reason at all. At least, that’s what she told herself. Peter nods and looks away.

 

She should have fucking kissed him, she thinks.

 

“Betty and him probably had a bet.” Peter adds casually after a moment, realizing they were still way too close to each other. MJ realizes to and forces some distance.

 

“They’re the worst.”

  
Yes, they  _ absolutely _ were.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mentions of non-con/assault in this chapter, but again--nothing graphic. 
> 
> the story is going to definitely take off from here, so don't give up on me. i promise there's a plot to this lol!   
> this chapter is also pretty short compared to the others, but i'm hoping to get out a big one in the next week or two, it's going to be packed with a lot of stuff and will make up for the suffering i've been putting you through, i promise! :)
> 
> enjoy! & let me know what you think.

Peter thought things were going to get better, but instead it’s only gotten worse. MJ and Peter were constantly tiptoeing around the topic of their feelings or how Michelle was acting at the party. Peter didn’t know how much more he could take. They were playing a dangerous game with each other and one of them was bound to lose. The week following the party, MJ backed off. It was a surprise to Peter, considering how upset she was when he did the same thing.

 

Payback is a bitch, he thinks.

 

MJ also hadn’t bothered to ask about the car that he finally took from Mr. Stark; paid in full with no obligations. Tony was  _ too _ giving, at least to May and Peter. He figured he might have a soft spot for Peter. He didn’t see Mr. Stark as a father figure—not in the  _ slightest _ . It could be that he was stricken by his Aunt May—understandable. May Parker had a scary way of charming people. But, Mr. Stark was always busy with his string of business scattered over New York. So, the gifts seemed like a way to make up for his frequent absence. But, he treated May right and that was all Peter cared about. Peter doesn’t know why he took the car—maybe he was feeling sorry for himself? No, that wasn’t it. He needed to stop feeling sorry for himself and seize the moment. Something he couldn’t manage to do with MJ.

 

Moving in with Michelle was—and still is, the worst idea Ned ever gave him.

 

But, they had manage to transition back into a normal, comfortable rhythm. Some nights they would stay in and catch up on assignments or watch movies together—MJ  _ hates _ movies, always has. But, it’s the one thing she puts up with, just for Peter. Other nights they would hang out with Ned and Betty—no, it wasn’t double dating. Ned and Betty still teased them about it endlessly. Things were good, for the most part. Aside from the crushing feeling that they might fall in love with each other all over again, as if those feelings ever faded in the first place. MJ was too afraid to trust someone with her heart and Peter was too willing to do so.

 

November came fast and passed too quick.

 

Thanksgiving was approaching and Peter could sense the edge of anxiety radiating off of Michelle. If there was one thing to know about MJ—she hated family gatherings. It was just another way for her parents to get together with other family members and gloat about their successes. They were crazy rich realtors around New York: great people,  _ terrible _ parents. Her family was formal—tense and cold, all the time. It was unnerving for Peter to witness since his life had always been filled with so much love. MJ couldn’t even recall the last time her parents had shared an ‘I love you’ between the two—to  _ her _ , even. It was just another way to be criticized and critiqued by the people who could care the least about her.

 

Peter found out about her parents very early on in their friendship. It was one of the several parent/teacher conferences that Midtown held throughout the school year. He walked in mid argument, eyes locking with MJ. Her parents hadn’t even bothered to notice—they were to busy yelling at her for not improving her grades enough. Because maintaining a 3.92 average just wasn’t good enough for them—not to mention the amount of work she did for the decathlon team. MJ made it clear that he wasn’t to speak about any of it. Ever. Unless he felt like dying. Since then, Aunt May has acted a lot like her surrogate mom and now that Peter thinks about it, it’s kind of weird. But, he knows MJ needs love—she deserves it.

 

So, when Michelle is knocking on his door the weekend before the dreaded holiday—of course he’s there for her. Drama aside, Peter was the only person she could confide in, he took pride in it. She swiveled in his computer chair for almost five minutes before she decided to speak.

 

“I don’t know what’s going to happen,” MJ sighs, leaning back in the chair and pulling her knees to her chest, “...I really don’t want to go.”

 

“Do you have to?” Peter asks, leaning back on his hands. For a second, Michelle thinks that he’s doing it on purpose. Her eyes follow his covered chest down to the small peak of skin that was showing because of the way he was sitting, right above the waistline of his boxers and—

 

“Yes.” She forced out, drawing in a sharp breath. Her eyes snapped up and she was looking at him again—his face, at least.

 

“You could always go with me.” Peter suggests. He means it. “May loves you and Tony wants to meet you. It would be cool. No shitty parents or annoying cousins.”

 

“That’s like asking me to meet your parents, Peter.” She teases lightheartedly, but it doesn’t last long.

 

She’s acting distant. Peter hates it.

 

“It’s not like me introducing you as my girlfriend—you’re  _ not _ . But, things might be better there instead of wherever your parents are flying you out to...” MJ chooses to ignore the first comment, focusing in on the rest of what Peter had to say.

 

“Aspen.”

 

They both scrunch their faces in disgust. It sounded posh and snobby, Michelle was neither of them.

 

“Well, if you insist.” Peter shrugs, quickly throwing a pillow her in her direction. She catches it with quick reflexes and it catches Peter by surprise.

 

“You’ll be on speed dial.” She jokes, throwing the pillow back at him. It hits Peter in the face with a soft thud and MJ chuckles quietly, watching Peter deflate a little. He always managed to get Michelle with that trick—things were changing.

 

“In that case....” Peter says, pulling out his phone, subsequently to act like he was blocking MJ’s number.

 

“ _ Dork _ .” She snorts.

 

If anything, he was going to be calling her.

 

####

 

Funny enough, he does.

 

It was the middle of dinner, he was on his third helping of turkey and deviled eggs when Tony and May are talking to him about vacationing for Christmas sans the cold. Peter suggested Hawaii, mostly because it would be cool to swim and surf on the island—not that the knew how to surf, he  _ doesn’t _ —and spend time away from the cold, bitter weather that New York had to offer. He almost didn’t want to accept, mostly because he felt like he would be intruding but May kept insisting.

 

“It’s great, you’ll like it so much.” She smiles, throwing her hands out in front of her. May was animated and Peter couldn’t help but love it. God, he missed her so much and in a weird way— Mr. Stark too. Not to mention, he wasn’t wearing a suit right now and that was a  _ sight _ to see. He looked completely out of place in normal clothing and it baffled Peter that it was even possible for that to be an actual  _ thing _ .

 

“Invite the girl too,” Tony says after swallowing his food, “Michelle, right?”

 

Peter makes a face and then shakes his head. There was no way Michelle would agree to going, even if she wanted to.

 

“No, no—she won’t want to.” Peter finally tells them.

 

“It doesn’t hurt to ask, honey.” May’s voice is soft. He forgets that he only told May about living with MJ a couple weeks ago. He figured Tony had told her, but no—for whatever reason. It’s not like him and MJ we’re together. They were just roommates. “I haven’t seen her sweet face in forever. I’m sure we can do some convincing. It would be good for the two of you to go out and enjoy yourselves before you have to go back to classes.”

 

May had a point and Peter hated it. Peter sinks in his chair in defeat, fishing in his pocket for his phone. He takes one last bite before excusing himself to his old room. Everything was still the same, it was a nice thing to come back to when he needed it. He scrolls down his contact list until he finds her and starts the call. Maybe she won’t answer, maybe she’s busy having dinner and he’s going to interrupt— _ shit _ , she was going to get in trouble for—

 

“Peter?” Her voice soft and weak, like she had been crying. “What’s up?”

 

“Hey,  _ hey—uh _ ,” He quickly chews his food and swallows, clearing his throat, “I totally didn’t think you would answer but,  _ um _ , I have a question.”

 

There’s silence on the other end, so he takes that as his cue to speak again.

 

“Would you, uh—” His hands are sweaty and he doesn’t know why. Was he panicking? No. Maybe? He totally was, “Do you want to go to Hawaii next month? Like with me—and Aunt May and Mr. Stark? It’s cool if you don’t want to I-I just wanted to ask and they want you to go to... if you  _ want _ to... you don’t have to.”

 

_ Smooth _ , Parker.

 

“Actually—” MJ pauses and sniffs. Peter wants to wet himself from the nervousness. He didn’t even understand why he was nervous—no, he  _ did _ .

 

He was in love with this girl. It wasn’t a new revelation to Peter, it just took him awhile to realize how much and that MJ would probably never feel the same. It made doing this so much harder.

 

“Yeah, I’ll go.”

 

Peter nearly drops his phone in shock and he’s positive that MJ can hear him fumbling on the other line.

 

“Are you—you sure?” Peter asks, trying to act normal. But the crack in his voice says otherwise.

 

“Yeah.” There’s a hiccup and he can hear what sounds like MJ covering the phone speaker with her hand. Peter knows MJ doesn’t want him to meddle, but he has to.

 

“Hey, hey...are you crying?” His voice is low and soft, not wanting Tony or May to hear him. “What’s going on, Em?”

 

“Noth—nothing, it’s fine.” He hears her voice falter and now he knows something happened. MJ never cried unless she was truly upset, something was bothering her. Peter quickly presses the icon on his phone to switch to video call. There’s a long wait before MJ finally appears on his screen.

 

She was struggling to wipe the stray tears away on her cheek with edge of her sleeve and then cradles her head in her hands. Peter can only hear muffled sobs, concerning him more.

 

“Em? Em?  _ Talk _ to me.” Peter pleads, looking desperately into the camera. “Michelle, what’s going on?”

 

“I shouldn’t have came—I knew it was a bad idea. I could have just stayed at the apartment or-or just gone with you—Peter, I  _ need _ to leave. I don’t know what to do.” Her breath was coming in short, unsteady huffs and Peter could visibly see her tensing up.

 

“Michelle, look at me—you need to breath. Just hold the phone up and look at me. Listen, you need to calm down—take a deep breath,” Peter runs his fingers through his hair stressfully. He really wishes he could be by her side, but this is the best he can do. Michelle needed to allow herself to open up and let Peter know what was going on. She had a habit of bottling everything up until things like this happened—Peter couldn’t help her like he wanted to, so she was going to have to trust him, “Em?  _ Please _ say something.”

 

The screen is black for a brief second when she grabs the phone, unintentionally covering the front camera with her finger. The next time he sees her she’s sitting on what Peter guesses is the side of a tub. She’s staring at him, desperate and terrified. She squeezes her eyes shut and forced back more tears.

 

“He touched me...some guy—I didn’t ask for it. I thought that—that it was just going to be  _ family _ , but they had a bunch of their friends come over and they are,” She pauses to let out a shaky breath, “horrible,  _ horrible _ people. Worse than my parents and they’re all drunk—I had to lock myself in here because I don’t  _ knowwhattodoand _ ”

 

“Em, slow down.” Peter says, trying to soothe her. “He touched you? Who touched you? What happened?”

 

“They’re all drunk. They have been for the past few hours. I went up to my room after we ate and I fell asleep—and,  _ and _ —then I woke up and there was a hand up my shirt—I just... _ Peter— _ “

 

His face was bright red, fueled by anger. He feels guilty for not convincing her to go with him back to Queens. Everything, all of this, it wouldn’t have happened. He wants to punch something, anything— _ hard _ . She didn’t deserve any of this.

 

“Did he— _ like, _ ” Peter couldn’t force himself to say the words, they were caught in his throat, “hurt you?”

 

“No, no... it’s just that—I tried running and he followed me and then he shoved me against a wall and tried forcing himself on me—Peter, I felt so  _ weak _ ...”

 

The tears that had been threatening to escape from his eyes finally fell. He was staring back at MJ, who hadn’t looked away once. Peter couldn’t even think long enough to gather words.

 

“...and when I finally got away from him and went to tell my mom—she didn’t even try taking my side. Who does that, Peter? I’m her  _ fucking _ daughter. She kept telling me that if I had dressed appropriately and stopped sexualizing myself so much that it would have happened. She acted like I was putting out the whole night and that it was bound to happen—I’m wearing jeans and a shirt, Peter. How am I  _ even— _ “ Michelle has to stop herself, give herself a moment to breath. She was so past feeling sorry for herself. This was  _ not _ her fault. “I was going to call you right before you did, I promise—it’s  _ just _ , I needed a minute to think.”

 

Peter quickly wipes his tears away when she glances away, clearing his throat. He has  _ too _ much running through his minds and he wants to ask  _ so _ many questions, but his concern is MJ, first and foremost. She needed out of there,  _ now _ . When she finally turns back, he notice the blood smeared across her lip that he curses himself over not realizing before. He doesn’t want to ask, but he  _ has _ to.

 

“Em, did your mom—did she  _ hit _ you?”

 

She nods and the tears started flooding back to her.

 

“I’m coming to get you.  _ Now _ . Start packing your stuff.”

 

“Peter, you don’t have to do that. I can figure something out—it’s not that serious, just—“

 

“Em, I’m serious. Pack your shit. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

 

She fumbles over her words before finally agreeing and hanging up. He told her he would text her as soon as he figured something out. He cared too much to let her suffer like that. The only problem was telling Aunt May and Tony.

 

####

 

“How fast can you get me on a plane to Aspen?”

 

Aunt May drops her fork in surprise, but Tony doesn’t even flinch. The man was odd.

 

“Peter. I have a private jet. What kind of question is that—“ Tony tells him. To most people it would have sounded like bragging, but most people  _ really _ don’t know Tony.

 

“Can you fly a plane? We need to leave. Like... _ now _ , preferably.”

 

He’s shaking and he doesn’t realize it until May is already in front of him, squeezing his hands together between hers. Her hands were warm, comforting—but Peter didn’t need that right now.

 

“Yeah, of course. But, kid—what for?”

 

He’s going to regret it later, but he’s telling them everything before he can even stop himself. He was a mess, tears running down his face. This wasn’t a panic attack—he was upset. He needed to be there for MJ, something he hadn’t been able to do properly.  _ Ever _ .

 

They’re on the plane an hour later and Peter texts with MJ the entire time, mostly to make sure she was safe, but she was also the only thing keeping him from blowing up. It takes almost six hours (it felt like an  _ eternity _ to Peter) to fly to Aspen. He made MJ promise to stay in her room until he landed, but she insisted on driving to the airport when he informed her they were only an hour away. She didn’t have her car there, so it seemed sketchy, but he couldn’t argue with her. She would have won the fight anyways.

 

When they landed, Peter was rushing off the plane. He was desperate to see MJ—hug her, touch her, know that she was safe. May had to restrain him for a moment so he could calm down enough to find her and when he does, his world stops.

 

He’s rushing towards her, pushing through the crowds of tourists. It takes a moment for her to see him, but she when she does, she visibly relaxes—and then he’s pulling her into his arms.

 

“Thank you.” Peter never thought he would be so relieved to hear her voice, but he was. “I’m so sorry for all the fighting, all the shit I’ve caused. Everything, Peter. Literally,  _ everything _ . I can’t believe I hurt you and ever stopped being friends with you in high school. I’m so  _ stupid _ .”

 

He only managed to squeeze her tighter, burying his face into neck. Her smell was like a comfort to him after living with her for a while, he hasn’t really realized it until now.

 

“I hope you realize that no matter how upset we are at each other—I will always be there for you. I never stopped. I just want you to talk to me—be honest. I’m never going to judge you, Em. There’s no way.”

 

She nods silently, holding onto him for a few minutes longer. 

 

“Wait, Michelle… how did you get here?” Peter was almost too afraid to ask.

 

“I...kind of,  _ maybe _ , stole one of the cars from the party?” She shrugs innocently. “There were a bunch of key sets laying around, I just grabbed the first one I saw and--”

 

“No,  _ no _ ,” Peter shakes his head, holding her steady by her shoulders, “if you don’t tell me about it I won’t have to feel guilty about harboring a fugitive with me.”

 

MJ playfully shoves him, but Peter engulfs her in a hug.

 

May rushes over with Tony a couple minutes later. MJ was elated when she saw May’s face and quickly slipped out of Peter’s arms and into hers. Peter laughed and followed her over.

 

“Did you tell them?” Michelle mouths inconspicuously and Peter does his best to nod without drawing any attention from Tony or May. But, MJ didn’t seem to care too much, if anything, she looked relieved.

 

“Thank you.” She mouths again and Peter smiles.

 

And when she smiles back, Peter knows he’s screwed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i want to thank everyone so much for leaving comments because it's such an awesome thing to see! it's the best feeling as a writer & I love it. Also, thanks to everyone who's been leaving kudos and bookmarking this story. I'm hoping to get some more work out in the future. 
> 
> Feel free to message me privately if you ever have any ideas for fics or anything! I'd love to beta if anyone needs it. I'm mj/peter trash and I will bounce ideas for hours.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, this chapter is pretty massive compared to the others. A lot happens and I hope you don't hate me for it. Just now, shit's really going to start happening from here. I love you guys so much for sticking with me through this. 
> 
> Also, I'm a mess and there is most definitely some typos in there. 
> 
> I'll try to get the next chapter up as fast as possible!

“Stupid zipper,” Michelle grunts, throwing her body weight over the suitcase to aid in getting it closed, “ _ Oh. My. God _ .”

 

To an outsider, it would have sounded like she was wrestling an animal. MJ had spent the last fifteen minutes trying to cram everything into one suitcase. It wasn’t like they were taking public airlines, so it wouldn’t have mattered how many she took. But, she liked to be as minimal as possible. Peter managed to finish his packing within an hour and was laying on MJ’s bed now, offering her some company. He could be laughing and making fun of her, but she’d tear him to pieces in seconds— _ not _ a good idea. So instead, he offers help.

 

“Here, sit.” Peter finally says, pushing himself off the bed and pointing at the top of the suitcase. “You sit. I zip.”

 

Michelle side eyes him, crossing her arms over her chest in defeat. “ _ Fine _ .” She huffs, crawling her way onto the suitcase. Peter moves her hands to either side of the suitcase. “Hands  _ here _ , watch your fingers.”

 

It only takes him ten seconds and a couple hard tugs before it’s finally closed. He smirks confidently, looking at MJ. She pointedly punches him in the chest before sliding off, playfully shoving him out of the way. Normally, Peter would tense up when she did something like that, or when he made any physical contact with her at all. But, Michelle had shown him a lot in the past few weeks and just how comfortable she was around him. Surprisingly,  _ way _ more than Peter anticipated.

 

He slept in her room for a week after they got back from the hell that MJ had found herself in during Thanksgiving break. She couldn’t stand being alone, but she also didn’t want to be close to anyone. So, being the awesome, supportive friend that he is—he offers to sleep on the couch she has shoved against a wall in the corner of her room. To his surprise, she asks him to sleep with her—not  _ sleep _ with her, but. _..yeah— _ Peter almost went into cardiac arrest when she asked. If he was sweating bullets over it, MJ didn’t say anything.

 

“It doesn’t have to be weird.” She tells him, “We aren’t  _ boning _ or anything.”

 

And yeah,  _ that _ , the amount of sexual innuendos and references to just doing sexual things in general were a lot more frequent lately. Whether it was intentional or not, Peter was a  _ mess _ . But he was an adult, he could keep himself together.  _ Hopefully _ .

 

Peter figured she would want space more than anything, but he didn’t want to leave her alone either. So, he didn’t—any time they weren’t in class, they were together. MJ wouldn’t say anything when she plopped herself next to Peter every night, shoulders rubbing against each other. For a while, Peter was sure she was doing it to get a rise out of him, but then she would fall asleep against him and every bit of tension left her body. It made Peter feel like mush inside and he loved it.

 

“Is this all?” Peter asks, watching MJ throw a few toiletries in her carry-on bag. She stops suddenly, scrunching her face up—she was clearly thinking about something.

 

“Oh,  _ here _ . I almost forgot this one.” MJ strides over to her dresser, pulling out a a dainty, black bra that was covered in lace. “Shove this in the little pocket.” She uses her pointer finger to direct him before returning to her previous actions.

 

Peter held it up between his middle and index finger, examining it. He looks between her and the bra several times before she finally notices. MJ rolls her eyes hard and Peter never felt more judged.

 

“What? You’ve never touched a bra before?”

 

“Yeah— _ Yeah _ , of course.  _ Pfft _ ...” He quickly shoves the bra into the pocket and zips it up, forgetting she even gave it to him.

 

“I could have just not brought any.” MJ shrugs, “I hardly ever wear them.”

 

Peter almost chokes and it sends him into a fit of coughs. MJ doesn’t even try to hide the smug smirk on her face. He could dislike her so intently at times. Thinking about MJ going braless under her shirts and that  _ one _ hoodie she never bothered wearing anything under— _ his _ red hoodie that she borrowed one night and  _ still _ had.

 

He cleared his throat awkwardly, rubbing his nose. He was twirling a loose thread from Michelle’s comforter around his finger until it started to turn red. He was _really_ trying to distract himself at the moment. Anything but thinking about MJ being bare under his clothes.

 

“Don’t be such a prude, dude.” She laughs lightly, zipping up the carry-on bag. She huffs out a short laugh and Peter draws his brows together, creating two faint creases in the middle. “ _ Ha _ . That rhymed.” 

 

Peter rolls his eyes and nods, visibly annoyed. “Yeah, you’re a natural Edgar Allan Poe.”

 

“Hey,” She sounds offended, but Peter can’t be for sure. “Don’t insult Poe.”

 

“Whatever.” Peter mumbles, suddenly dispirited.

 

He didn’t figure they would really need to bring a whole lot anyways—it  _ was _ only a week. But, he made sure to let MJ know that she could bring whatever she wanted, or needed, or even  _ thought _ she wanted to bring. May had drilled that into his head until he couldn’t forget.

 

“I’m...not.” Peter shrugs, looking up at her. “I just—“

 

He wants to tell her  _ so _ bad. Because, there are things that she doesn’t know, that he  _ wants _ her to know. He wants to figure her out, what makes her tick—he wants to work things out. Peter missed joking around with MJ and still be able to connect with her on a personal level. Now, it was either or—and she didn’t like being personal, not like she used to. She was hiding stuff, but so was Peter. He doesn’t want her to be scared of him, or worried that he might judge her. Peter couldn’t admit to himself yet, but he loved her. He always had, but since moving in—everything was heightened to a level that Peter was never prepared for.

 

They needed to confess.  _ Everything _ . No holding back, no lying, no beating around the bush. And that’s exactly what Peter planned to do, even if MJ didn’t want to take part. H _ e _ couldn’t keep all of it buried anymore—even if it might hurt their friendship... or whatever  _ this _ was.

 

“ _ Whatever. _ ” MJ sighs, stacking the bag on the other one. “Loser.”

 

“Hey.” Peter warns, defensively. “This loser can cancel the vacation.  _ Right now _ .”

 

Actually, he couldn’t. It was a weak bluff.

 

“The trip that Tony Stark is paying for? The trip that Tony Stark set up and planned?  _ Okay _ , go ahead big guy.” She teases him, hands resting on her hips.

 

Peter mumbles something under his breath that MJ catches and she quickly shoves him backwards, playfully punching him in the stomach.

 

“Don’t talk crap to me, Parker. I’ll kick your ass.”

 

There was no doubt in his mind that she could and that’s what he loved about her. 

 

“I’d like to see you try.”

 

####

 

“Can you two stay still for a few minutes? At least until we take off?” Tony asks in a tiresome tone.

 

Young. Gooey. Love.

 

_ Gross _ .

 

They both stare at Tony before falling back into their seats in defeat, but not before MJ clips Peter in the ankle with her foot.

 

“ _ Ow _ . Stop it.” Peter pouts, holding his foot.

 

“ _ Seriously _ , you two? Get buckled in.” There was no room for argument in May’s voice.

 

“ _ Okay _ .” They both sigh, finally settling down.

 

It was going to be a  _ long _ trip.

 

And to be frank, it  _ was _ .

 

For the first two hours of the plane ride, MJ was dead to the world. She had fallen asleep with one earbud in her ear and the other resting between her lips. She had a habit of chewing on the hard plastic back while smashing the soft part of the bud between her fingers. Sometimes she would do it while she was studying, the other times where saved for when she was thinking really hard—or maybe daydreaming? It was just another thing that Peter couldn’t get enough of.

 

Meanwhile, Peter had devoured every snack left in sight. Well, not literally, but— _ pretty much _ . May constantly teased him about how he ate as much as three fully grown men. Peter could’ve argued, but it was the truth. He had a great metabolism and he wasn’t going to sit on it. Besides that, Peter was content for most of the ride. Occasionally, he would get fidgety and need to stretch his legs to keep from cramping up. But, he was good—great, actually. He even managed to sneak his laptop in his bag, despite MJ’s threats about killing him if he did. She wouldn’t hurt a hair on his precious head and that was exactly what Peter told her.

 

####

 

Peter caught himself staring for longer than he should have been, but the sight of Michelle drooling against the pillow she had placed on the seat beside her, sprawled out like a baby gazelle--there wasn’t even a word for how she looked because Peter was speechless. She was adorable when she slept and MJ would punch him in the throat if he ever told her that to her face—which is why he only admired. He valued his life too much.

 

So, when she began to stir Peter quickly averted his eyes back to the luminous screen in front of him. MJ stopped after a while and Peter thought that maybe she was dreaming or just moving around in her sleep, but the words that come out of her mouth startled him into another dimension.

 

“Why do you have your  _ laptop _ ?”

 

He slammed the laptop shut, startled. He cleared his throat and looked over at her. MJ hadn’t moved an inch and her eyes were still closed. She was terrifying sometimes.

 

“Uh—I...figured...”

 

Nope. He didn’t have an excuse.

 

“ _ Pathetic _ .” MJ mumbles.

 

Peter’s mouth drops open slightly, a little shocked. Admittedly, he was hoping to get ahead on some work and research so he wouldn’t be struggling and drowning in assignments like he had been the previous semester. Plus, the plane had amazing wifi and he wasn’t going to let that go to waste. His biophysics class was chewing his ass up and spitting him right out with all the work he had to do, so  _ yeah _ , he broke their rule but it was for good reason.

 

“Go back to sleep.” He chuckles, reaching in the small plastic bag on the table to throw a stray peanut at her. It hits MJ on the tip of her nose and she immediately opens one eyes to glare at Peter. He quickly covers his gaping mouth, regretting his actions. It wasn’t on purpose, but he also didn’t feel sorry about it.

 

“I’m murdering you when we land.” Her voice was monotone and low, which absolutely petrified him.

 

They argue for a few seconds longer before MJ finally gives up and falls back asleep. It was easier for Peter to concentrate this way, without Michelle distracting him. Not that he cared, it was just impossible to get anything done around her lately. 

 

Peter spends the next couple hours reading up on some of the research that they would be looking into this semester and getting ahead on a few reading assignments before he finally takes a break. Usually, he would switch to Youtube a watch a few videos to relax his every rampid brain, but instead he found himself wandering around the Columbia University homepage. They were good about keeping everything up to date and informing students when events were going on--not that Peter ever attended any, but he was still curious. He’s scrolling for several minutes, humming some tune to a rap song he definitely can’t remember the words to before he instantaneously freaks out.

 

‘ _ The Uncomfortable Truths and Tales of Campus Rape _ ’ by  **Anonymous**

 

Motherfucker. This was such an invasion of privacy and something that Michelle wanted to keep private. To everyone else, it wouldn’t matter. But, Peter knew this was MJ--it couldn’t have been anyone else. It was on the front page under  **Journalism** ; the biggest red flag. Sure, her professor made certain to keep her anonymity, but that didn’t matter. He has no idea how Michelle is going to react if she find out about--she definitely would, because  _ hello _ , she’s Michelle Jones--and that scared him. He almost clicked out of the homepage completely.  _ Almost _ . But, he couldn’t stand not knowing anymore.

 

He takes a deep breath, glancing up where MJ was still sound asleep in her seat. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. She was going to hate him for the rest of eternity. But, Peter needed to know the truth. He wanted to understand what she was dealing with and going through, because he knows it’s been affecting her for a long time. And that was exactly why he wanted to talk to her, because there were things he’s regretted doing and not telling her. Peter was  _ over _ feeling ashamed and scared all the time.

 

He spends the next half hour reading over short excerpts in the story and trying to miss any details. Which admittedly, there was  _ a lot _ going on. MJ always found research and numbers important, so she including a lot of hard information that could clearly be backed up with a simple search, but it’s the personal section of the story that Peter can’t stop reading over. He had done it five times in the last ten minutes. Peter just  _ couldn’t _ grasp what he was reading--or maybe he didn’t want to. She talked a lot about the parties she attended in high school and how dangerous they were, how none of the kids there held any responsibility or accountability for their actions and a lot more that Peter didn’t want to read further into. 

 

This was personal,  _ too _ personal for people to be reading. It was a complete invasion of her privacy and he felt terrible for reading it. She was going to hate him. So  _ fucking _ much. But, if she does find out, it was going to be after the trip because Peter  _ didn’t _ want to ruin this trip for her… not after  _ everything _ that’s happened.

 

####

 

They land six hours later, all of them  _ visibly _ relieved. Peter was amazed at how long MJ managed to sleep through the plane ride, up until she admitted she had taken a couple pills to help her relax. She was a nervous flyer, something Peter didn’t know. He figured she didn’t tell him because MJ knew Peter would try to tell her she didn’t have to go (MJ knows Peter better than he does himself, because he absolutely would have), but she wanted to more than  _ anything _ right now. 

 

She was pretty groggy when she exits the plane, so Peter helps her down the stairs and through the front of the airport. It’s mostly Michelle leaning against Peter and him supporting her weight. Peter caught May mumbling to Tony on their way through the airport, probably about how cute they looked--no one supported them together more than his Aunt May and he loved her for that--and that they should get over themselves and get together. It seemed  _ impossible _ for that to happen.

 

When they finally leave the airport, they’re met with a bunch of friendly faces--locals, obviously--offering them all leis as a token of welcome. It was a cool gesture, Peter thought. He glances over at MJ who is smiling through the sleep that was still prevalent on her face.

 

“These are cute.” She mumbles, holding one of the flowers between her fingers. Peter laughs quietly, rolling his eyes. MJ was probably hoping he wouldn't hear her, but he had.

 

“Shut up.” She snarks, bumping him with the small bag she was holding in her left hand. “Let me enjoy the culture, asshole.”

 

“I didn’t even say anything.” He tells her, throwing his hands up in defense. 

 

“Yeah,  _ well _ , your face did.”

“ _ Uh huh _ .” He had such a shit-eating grin on his face and MJ couldn’t stop the blush that creeped up her neck. She could excuse it for the humidity and heat clinging to her skin, but it would have been a terrible lie.

 

When their car finally arrives, they pile inside, welcoming the cool A/C hitting their face. It was a complete change from the usually brisk weather of New York, but Peter and MJ didn’t seem bothered. They needed some change,  _ now _ more than ever. They’re both on their phones when Tony turns around his seat, looking at the both of them. 

 

“So, I was originally going to get three rooms--but May  _ somehow _ convinced me not to--you know, she’s  _ really _ persuading. I see why you get intimidated by her, kid. But anyways, I hope you two don’t mind sharing.” 

 

Peter glances up from his phone to look over at MJ. She’s shrugging her shoulders and shaking her head.

 

“I don’t mind.” She says confidently, surprising Peter.

 

“What about you, kid?” Tony questions, eyebrows raising behind his tinted glasses.

 

“Uh, no... _ no _ I don’t mind.” He didn’t sound as sure as MJ had.

 

May doesn’t do very well at hiding the smile on her face, flicking through some browsers on her phone. Peter couldn’t believe how  _ conniving _ she could be, knowing she had planned for this to happen. 

 

“Good.” May speaks up, glancing over at the both of them. “We got you the room with the pool and hot tub connection. It’s right by the beach too--it’s perfect for shopping too. All the stores are right there and--”

 

“Look, we’re here.” Peter shouts louder than necessary, startling all of them. MJ looks at him accusatory before leaning over his lap to roll down the window and look out.

 

“ _ Woah _ . This is amazing.” Her eyes are glazed over in awe and she has to physically nudge him to gather his attention, not that it wasn’t already on her. He was just staring…  _ again _ . “Look.”

 

Peter hadn’t been on a trip like this,  _ ever _ . So, he felt exactly the same about all of it and a little guilty that he couldn't have brought Ned with him. But, he was all tied up with his family. May was Peter’s only family, so holidays were weird--everything felt empty--which is why they didn’t celebrate or do anything extravagant,  _ not _ like this. 

 

“Yeah. It’s pretty cool.” He forces out, nodding. 

 

“Cool?” MJ asks, sitting back down. “ _ Lame _ . You’re being lame, Peter.”

 

“How?” He squeaks out, crossing his arms. “How am I being lame?”

 

“ _ Cool _ .” She mocks him, making air quotes with her fingers. “You’re going to enjoy this, even if that means taking your stupid laptop away. Look--I’m even turning my phone off.” She tells him, holding her phone up in face so he could watch her switch it off. “Your turn.” She makes grabby hands for his phone and does the same thing when he finally hands it over. 

 

“What if Ned calls me?” Peter asks, “He might have, like, an emergency or something.”

“Most of his emergencies are Betty related and you’re not his relationship counselor. He’ll survive and you can tell him everything when we get back.”

 

“Fine.” Peter gives in and MJ smiles wide, flashing her beautiful white teeth. 

 

“Great, now get out,  _ weirdo _ .”

 

He’s been so distracted that he hadn’t even realized the his Aunt May and her Mr. Stark were already pulling bags out of the trunk. He opens the door and climbs out, MJ following behind him. Peter takes his bag and slings it over his shoulder, grabbing Michelle’s luggage as well. She looks slightly dejected when he sees her face.

 

“Peter. I can take my own bags.” She laughs, holding her arms out to take them back.

 

Peter makes eye contact with her and MJ understood that there was no room for argument. 

 

“Okay,  _ okay _ . Go ahead.” She tells him, drawing her arm back to her side.

 

Michelle had started to accept the fact that,  _ yes _ , boys could be nice. They could do things and not expect anything in return and MJ didn’t know how to deal with that. She usually let Peter win whatever argument they were having, as long as she could get the fact in that she was perfectly capable of doing the task herself. Peter was well aware that she could, but he was nothing if not a gentleman. He even helped old ladies cross the street in his free time and might have saved a cat or two from falling to their imminent death. The whole cats always land on their feet thing was a joke. He wasn’t some superhero--he was just Peter.

 

They have to walk a few blocks before they reach their cabanas at the resort, but it was worth it. The resort was littered with shrubbery and the greenest grass that Peter and MJ had ever seen. Plus, there were ducks--literal  _ ducks _ \--roaming around the resort. MJ wanted to curl up with  _ all _ of them. One of the roams over to nudge at her leg and it was amazing because she’s never seen these things get this close to a human. They were incredibly domesticated and it dawns on MJ that they are around people every day, so it’s normal for them.

 

She reaches down, pouting her bottom lip out. She looks up at Peter, batting her long lashes. “Look at how cute they are, Peter.” She gently rubs the palm of her hand against its back, earning a small quack in return. MJ giggles softly, covering her mouth with her other hand. 

 

“I found your kryptonite.” Peter laughs, pointing down at the duck. “Adorable, small animals.”

 

MJ casually rolls her eyes and stands again. 

 

“Are you making fun of me?” She asks, cocking her head to the side. “Because that’s what it feels like.”

 

“No, no, no. I’m not.” Peter quickly confesses, “It’s pretty cute actually.”

 

“The ducks?” She asks, “ _ Yeah _ , I know.”

 

“Uh, _ yeah _ \--the ducks.” He nods and MJ smiles again, bumping his shoulder. 

 

He hated when she did that, because he couldn’t figure out what it meant. Everything that MJ did had some sort of intention behind it and it drove him crazy not knowing. He forced a smile and adjusted his grip on the baggage. Peter looked ahead to find Tony and May talking to one of the resort workers and then they’re waving them over. He has to call after Michelle a few times to attract her attention away from the ducks, letting her know that it was time to go.

 

“Alright.” She pouts again, shoving her hands in her front pockets and jogging over to him. 

 

They walk in silence for a few seconds before MJ makes the first move, surprising herself and Peter.

 

“Are you sure you’re alright with us,  _ like _ , staying together in a room?” Her voice is open and honest and Peter didn’t hear that often. It tugged at something in his chest and he couldn’t figure out why.

 

“Of course. We already live together and I’ve slept in your room before. Are you?”

 

MJ nods slowly, looking over at him. “Yeah, it’s fine. It’s just, _ you know _ , one room and one bathroom and everything. So, there isn't much privacy.”

 

“If you want some space, that’s fine. I’m sure the room will have like a couch or even a pull out, or something.” Peter hates how deflective and stupid he sounds. MJ was probably hinting at something he couldn’t catch wind of. “I can always talk to Tony about getting another bed put in there.”

 

“No. I don’t want that.” Michelle’s voice is firm and she’s staring him down now. “It’s just--after everything that’s happened lately. I get jumpy and… uncomfortable and I can’t understand why or control it. If I freak out, I don’t want you to think it’s because of you.”

 

Peter swallowed thickly, understanding her fully. She didn’t have to tell him anymore for him to understand, she was already sharing a lot more than she ever had.

 

“Yeah, Em. I get it.” He reassures her, smiling. He takes a deep breath before opening his mouth again. “If you need to talk to me or anything, about  _ anything _ \--I’m here for you. I hope you know that.”

 

MJ releases a shaky breath, slapping her hands together in front of her as they walked. “Enough with the sappy shit, Parker. It’s cool.”

 

_ Yeah _ . Cool. At least he tried.

 

####

 

MJ was the first to rush through the door, immediately pouncing on the bed. Her body bounced softly when he back landed on the white duvet, her curls looking like a small explosion happened around her head. The purple and white of the lei stood out against the her dark, golden skin. The depressing colors and never-existing sunshine of New York dulled out just how beautiful she could look. Don’t get Peter wrong, he thought she  _ always _ looked beautiful. But, the sliding glass window that lead out to the pool and hot tub gave a perfect view of the sunlight as it poured in. The room was open, filled with natural light. Everything was mostly white or beige or made out of a weird bamboo type material. Peter was sure that someone could appreciate the beauty of it, but all he cared about was the necessary essentials. Bed, shower, toilet, fridge--that happened to be fully stocked with all of his favorite things.

 

“I took the liberty to stuck that thing up so you wouldn’t starve.” Tony takes a jab at Peter, who doesn’t even care because he’s too busy rummaging through the fridge already. “And Michelle--I wasn’t sure what you were into, but Peter told me you like sweets, so--”

 

“Holy  _ shit _ .” Peter startles all of them. He’s pulled out one of the many draws along the counter, looking through the variously wrapped sweets. 

 

“Peter.” May warns and Peter sort of,  _ sinks _ . He mumbles an apology because he knows how much May hates when he talks like that. He’s an adult, sure. But, he did like to respect her.

 

“Thanks, Mr. Stark.” Michelle says through the thick air of awkwardness that had fallen over them. Although, it could have been the sticky, humid heat making her feel that way.

 

“It’s Tony. No more ‘Mr. Stark’.” He tells her, trying to make his surname sound fancy. But, MJ knew he was making fun of himself. “I’m not at work and this is a vacation. I don’t need all that.”

 

“Understood.” MJ replies, bring her her index and middle finger to her forehead in mock salute. “Got it.”

 

“Okay, well… we’re going to let you two settle.” May tells them, gesturing between MJ and Peter. “But, be ready for dinner at seven, please. You don’t have to dress fancy or anything, but Tony and I are dressing up a bit, so--”

 

“We got it, May.” Peter laughs, hugging her before waving goodbye to them both. Michelle rolls over on the bed, enjoying the cool material against her skin. She whips her head back when she hears the door close, watching as Peter took a seat at one of the chairs by the bar in the kitchen.

 

“I totally changed my mind. This bed is  _ too _ damn comfortable to make you sleep on the floor or anything.” She sighs, rolling back onto her other side and propping herself up on her elbows. It gave Peter a perfect view of her chest and the deep cut top she was wearing. He forced out a laugh and swiveled in the chair.

 

“So...we could check the place out. It’s pretty big,  _ honestly _ .” Peter suggests, trying to avoid the problem at hand. The problem being his unequivocal attraction towards Michelle and everything about her.

 

“Yeah, sure. Let’s do it.”

 

The biggest area of the cabana held the living area, which also doubled as a bedroom, and the kitchen. It was spacier than the apartment back in Manhattan and that made them both a little jealous. They had already accustomed themselves to that, so they traversed deeper. MJ ran into a large bathroom at the end of the hall; a huge tub and a walk in shower. This was definitely the most expensive place MJ has ever stayed in, and she’s been in some  _ pretty _ extravagant places before, so it’s saying a lot. Peter finds the room on the left, hiding behind a sliding door rather than a regular one. It held a couch fit for a few people and a giant television screen mounted to the wall, clearly an entertainment room. But, it also led out onto the area connected outside, framing a beautiful view of the beach. 

 

“This is a lot like the cabin back in Aspen,” MJ speaks absent-mindedly, tracing her fingers along the wall as they walked back to the front. “I mean, with the windows and everything. It was  _ really _ pretty.” Her voice trails of towards the end and she forces a smile at Peter and he picks up on it immediately. 

 

“Uh, I hope you don’t mind me asking but--how are things,  _ you know _ , with them?” He sounded uncertain, wondering whether MJ was going to strangle him or not. He was bracing himself for it.

“I didn’t even tell them I was coming out here.” She shrugs, “They like to spend holidays together, but I’m  _ so _ over it.” MJ shakes her head and takes a seat on the bed, crossing her legs. She began picking at the loose threads on her purposely ripped shorts. “All they ever do is brag about stuff. It  _ sucks _ .”

 

“Well, May and I don’t ever celebrate it… if that helps.” He was really trying here, but it came off lamer than Peter expected. “ _ Not _ that it should, but holidays suck for me too. This is the first time we’ve done something like this. It’s nice. May deserves it, at least. After  _ everything _ she’s been through.”

 

“ _ Yeah _ , she does.” MJ agrees knowingly. Michelle had grown close to her during her few years of friendship with Peter and that meant she knew about Ben and Peter’s parents and about every little thing she did for Peter, just to make sure he could have a normal life. She was  _ amazing _ . And May never treated her or Ned any differently, they were  _ all _ her own kids, in a weird way.

 

For a moment, it’s pure silence. Peter’s wandering aimlessly around the room, touching anything he can get his hands on. At some point, he picks up a plastic statue sitting on a dresser and manages to drop it a millisecond after grabbing it. He earns a strict glare from MJ and duly noted that he loved that look on her, as dangerous and terrifying as it was.

 

“Hey, why don’t we swim for a little? Break in the hot tub?” Peter asks, motioning in the direction of the backdoor.

 

“That sounds  _ very _ suggestive, Peter.” Her eyebrows raise teasingly, but it fades quickly. “And no. I’d rather start getting ready. I’ll swim later.”

 

Peter’s shoulders slump and he trudges towards his bag, pulling out some of his nicer clothes that he had brought. Unfortunately, Peter didn’t fold anything and, more or less, shoved everything into one big ball. MJ quickly snatched the light blue button-up shirt from his hands, unwading it with disgust. 

 

“You’re an animal, dude.” She tells him. Peter actually feels insulted, snatching the shirt back. “Everything is wrinkled. Like,  _ seriously _ wrinkled.”

 

“And? I can just hang in the bathroom while I shower.” Peter says flippantly, pulling out a pair of disheveled khakis.

 

“You’re a monster.” She tells him, eyes widening comically. She snatches both of the articles of clothing, clutching them to her chest. “I’m going to look for an something to iron these out. Go take a shower.”

 

Peter mumbles something under his breath about being perfectly capable of doing it himself, but MJ ignores it. She realized early on that her parents had basically programmed this kind of behaviour into her. They would swat her for even the slightest wrinkle or stain in her clothing. In a way, she was thankful, but that didn’t change how she felt about them  _ now _ .

 

MJ, by some  _ glorious _ miracle, manages to find both an ironing board and iron hiding away in one of the storage closets. Almost instantaneously, the water in the bathroom turns on and she hears Peter shriek, high-pitched and loud. It causes her to jump, eyes shooting up to the bathroom door. It was closed, so she didn’t really know  _ why _ she was looking but she didn’t look away until Peter said something. 

 

“ _ Cold _ ! That’s  _ so _ fucking cold.” She can hear the chattering in his voice until he sighs in relief, the hot water finally kicking in, apparently.

 

She finished ironing his clothes in record time, which was about three minutes. MJ had managed to get  _ pretty _ damn good at it, and she was proud of herself for that. But, she’s not proud of the way she reacts when Peter walks out of the bathroom, dripping and flushed red in the face. The towel clinging to his hips was  _ seriously _ not helping either. He quickly clears his throat, grabbing at the front of his towel. He didn’t need it falling and causing him to feel more embarrassed. Peter did this so much back at the apartment (usually after MJ was asleep) that it doesn’t dawn on him that MJ is only a few feet away on the other side of the door. 

 

Michelle regains her composure after a moment, but her eyes never faltered. Peter was built and everything, but  _ damn _ . She has to mentally scold herself for feeling so hot and bothered by Peter--not that it was weird, but she didn’t need this causing a problem between them. 

 

It already was.

 

MJ tries to be polite and turns her head away, heading for her belongings. She points back with her finger, gesturing at the clothes. “It’s finished, so just... _ yeah _ .” Stupid Peter Parker and his stupid abs and his stupid face. She had to take a deep breath before unzipping her suitcase, pulling out a neatly folded yellow romper; wrinkle-free. She was  _ totally _ one-upping Peter right now. Needless to say, she side-steps to the bathroom until Peter is out of sight and not almost naked in front of her. She closes the bathroom door with a sigh, leaning her head against the door gently. She could do this.  _ Totally _ .

 

####

 

Peter is standing in the living area, shell-shocked. He doesn’t know if it’s the fact that MJ managed to iron his clothes out faster than humanly possible or that she was completely freaking out at Peter being nearly nude in front of her. Which granted, he did  _ actually _ forget and hadn’t meant to do it at all. But  _ god _ , he was glad he did. Her face was enough conformation for Peter to know that MJ obviously had some type of attraction towards him still and that was a  _ relief _ . 

 

It takes Michelle fifteen minutes to shower, not that Peter was counting (he  _ totally _ was). It took him awhile to figure out his outfit, tucking and untucking his shirt several times, causing more unruly wrinkles in the shirt. MJ was going to shiv him a million times when she saw him.  _ Thankfully _ , she did not. When the door opens, she already dressed.  _ Good _ . That was good. Peter probably wouldn’t have handled himself as greatly if she had done the same to him. But, Michelle was a jokester and would probably do it to him at some point because she loved bothering him.

 

He bursts into a smile as soon as he looks at her because there was no way someone could look that stunning--but it was Michelle, so it was actually  _ entirely _ possible. She tucks a damp curl behind her ear and shuts the door behind her, walking towards where Peter was standing. 

 

“You look really pretty.” Peter says before he can filter it, but it was honest. 

 

“Sure.” She laughs, coming over to mess with his shirt again, visibly irritated.

 

“I’m serious.” And he was, but the tugging on his shirt pulls him out of the moment he was having,  _ admiring _ her. “I’m sorry--I didn’t know if I should tuck it in or not. It looks weird. Maybe I should just wear a regular shirt or something.”

 

“Did you not bring a tie?” MJ asks, looking up at him. She’s gently dragging her fingers up his shirt and yeah, Peter is freaking out. He knows she doesn’t mean for it to be intimate, but he can’t help it. He clears his throat before shaking his head furiously. 

 

“Nothing? Seriously?” She asks, shaking her head. She takes one breath and looks up at him. “ _ Okay _ . We can fix this.”

 

She tries her best to smooth out the wrinkles, leaving the shirt untucked. Meanwhile, Peter is trying to manage his terrible teenage-like hormones from ruining this moment  _ and _ his life. She pulls him arm from where it’s glued to his side and starts rolling the sleeve back to his elbow, securing the button. Peter gets the message and starts on the other one by himself when she finishes. She’s caged in by his arms, adjusting his collar. MJ doesn’t notice and if she  _ does _ , she’s doing a good job at ignoring it.

 

She was totally freaking out, by the way. She was just a lot better at hiding it than Peter.

 

She takes a step back to examine him, scrunching her face up in curiosity. She squints her eyes at him and Peter feels like he’s being scrutinized. MJ catches on and shakes her head, “No, it’s not you. It’s just-- _ here _ ,” She reaches forward hesitantly, unbuttoning the top few buttons, exposing some of his chest.

 

“Are you trying to sexualize me, Em?” He jokes, trying to lighten the mood and the thick air of tension that had blanketed over them. It doesn’t help. At all.

 

“Yeah. You’re ‘ _ fuck me _ ’ abs just  _ really _ do it for me.” She tells him in the most dead serious voice she’s ever spoken in. He visibly chokes and MJ bursts into a fit of giggles.

 

“ _ Thanks _ ?” His voice cracked and he felt like crawling under a rock or hiding in the bathroom for the rest of the trip, it sounded great  _ actually _ .

 

She doesn’t say anything after and it’s killing him. When he finally falls back to reality, she’s slipping a pair of white sandals on her feet and Peter is actually thanking God because he didn’t need the embarrassment of Michelle towering over him. Not that he didn’t appreciate her beautiful human form--he  _ definitely _ did. But, MJ was doing everything she could do to emasculate him right now and it was working.

 

“Let’s go. We’re going to be late.” She tells him, an evil smile crossing her face.

 

####

 

By some miracle, they managed to make it to the dinner reservation on time--two wardrobe malfunctions later. Although, Michelle hadn’t really had a wardrobe malfunction, she was just uncomfortable. They’re halfway to May and Tony’s suit before she reaches behind her to unclasp her bra. Peter had known she was wearing it because the straps to her outfit were thinner than the straps of her bra, but still--she was the devil  _ reincarnated _ . 

 

“Sorry. I just can’t do it.” She grimaces, “I hate them so much.” She doesn’t say anymore before shoving the bra into the handbag she had slung over her shoulder. Normally he would find it weird, but it was a total  _ MJ _ thing to do.

 

And then, cleary the devil at work--Peter’s zipper  _ breaks _ . MJ has to physically force herself to keep composure and not make fun of him. But luckily, his shirt did a decent job at covering it. MJ knowing about it was enough embarrassment anyways.

At some point through dinner, Tony starts asking Michelle about Columbia which made her visibly uncomfortable. But, she still answered all of his questions anyways. She didn’t like being open with people and Peter knew it meant a lot that she was okay with sharing.

 

“You wanted to major in Journalism, right? I think Peter mentioned it to me at some point.” Tony asks around his glass of chardonnay, which was no doubt worth more than anything Peter owned. Also, Tony was completely throwing him under the bus with all of this mention of him talking about MJ. It was true, but  _ still _ . They’re had to be some kind of guy code for him to follow--actually,  _ scratch _ that. Having a bro code with his aunt’s boyfriend was  _ way _ too weird.

 

“Yeah. I really like writing about stuff that most people would normally shy away from. It’s kind of boring to a lot of people, but I like it a lot.” It was the first time Peter had heard her say anything of the sorts and it surprised him--in a good way.

 

But, the moment was quickly ruined when Tony opens his mouth again.

 

“There’s actually this interesting article on the front page of the college website. I didn’t get to read all of it, but Peter was really interested in it on the plane ride here. You should check into it.”

 

Michelle turns her head towards Peter achingly slow, staring him down with an intensity that he had never felt before. This was bad,  _ so _ bad. He gulps before quickly changing the subject. May must have caught onto his behavior because she speaks at the same time as Peter.

 

“Come on, let’s dance.” She says as Peter yells, “Dancing, let’s do that.”

 

There was a pretty big group crowding the dance floor, but he managed to peel MJ away from the chair and towards the center, giving them some space. The dance area was covered by a large tent, giving a perfect view of the ocean and the moon reflecting of the surface. For most people, it would feel romantic. But for Peter, it was his impending doom. He couldn’t even look at MJ, who had been staring him down the entire time, clearly bothered by how weird he was acting. Peter catches glimpse of May swatting Tony, chastising him for his actions. Peter knew it wasn’t intentional, but it had started a shit storm that Peter hadn’t prepared himself for.

 

“What was he talking about?” She asks, her voice surprisingly calm or she was just  _ really _ good at acting.

 

“Uh, nothing--just some  _ stupid _ article. It wasn’t that important or any--”

 

“Peter. I  _ will _ strangle you in front of all these people.” She wouldn’t, but it made Peter panic.

 

“Your professor posted your article and a lot of people saw it.” He blurts out all at once and MJ drops her hands from where they were resting around his neck. “Before you get mad--I didn’t  _ intentionally _ try and find it, I just saw it and started reading it and then I realized that it was the assignment you had been working on  _ andimsorrypleasedonthateme _ \--” 

 

She was silent, swaying awkwardly with Peter, his hands still resting against her waist. He pulled away like he had been burned, resting his hands at his side awkwardly. 

 

“Look, if it makes you feel any better,” He takes a deep breath before speaking again, “people really enjoyed it.”

 

Again,  _ deafening _ silence.

 

“Michelle, I’m so sorry--I didn’t want you to find out this way.”

 

It takes him a second to realize she’s crying and his body fills with regret.

 

“Were you even  _ going _ to tell me, Peter? Because if you really cared about me or how I felt, you would have told me as soon as you realized. That was a complete invasion of privacy, I can’t believe you would even--”

 

“ _ I knew _ .” He forces out, surprising himself.

 

“You knew?” MJ asks, not fully understanding. “About what?”

 

“About Liz. And the party. I know, Em.  _ Everything _ .”

 

And that’s when the tears began to flood. The scariest part was that she hadn’t even made a sound, but her mascara was already haphazardly smeared down her face. He didn’t want to think about how many times she had done this to manage the ability to cry so silently. 

 

“I can’t believe this. I thought that coming here was going to help me get away from all of the shit going on in my life, but no--it’s  _ you _ , Peter. You’re a constant reminder of every fuck up I’ve made in my life and I can’t do it.” She’s sobbing quietly now, crossing her arms over her chest.

 

At first, he figures it’s just the emotions and everything, but each word hits him harder than the one before and suddenly he’s trying swallow the burning lump building in his throat--tears building in his own eyes.

 

“Michelle, don’t. Please.” He begs, “Give me time to explain everything.  _ Please _ .”

 

Michelle bravely looks at him, shaking her head and turning her back on him. She starts walking away and Peter tries to gather the courage to pull her back, but he  _ can’t _ . He can’t find it in himself to stop her anymore.

 

“ _ Fuck _ !” He yells, gathering several concerned stares from the surrounding tourists. He doesn’t doubt that he probably looks like a lunatic. He can’t find the courage to look at Tony and May either, who were probably staring him down at this very moment. 

 

He finally takes the first step and starts running, but Michelle is already  _ long _ gone. 

 

There was no way he was going to fix this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I feel terrible. But, bare with me. It will alllll be worth it. 
> 
> Let me know how you're feeling in the comments because I love torturing my readers with all this angst.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A WHOLE 10K WORDS FOR MY BABIES!
> 
> I spent allll week trying to get this done and I'm super proud of the results and I'm hoping you all will hate me a little less for some of the content I gave you in this chapter. You're welcome, btw. ;) 
> 
> I'm not sure if I'll keep up with super long chapters like this, just because they can be so draining and just /drag/ on, but this is a little present for all of my readers. I LOVE HEARING FROM YOU GUYS! (it makes my freaking day!!) So please, don't be afraid to leave a review because I try to reply to a lot of them and I love hearing you thoughts and stuff. 
> 
> I'm really hoping to get another story out soon, I'm just trying to come up with some plot ideas. If you guys have anything you think would be cool to see, let me know.

Peter didn’t bother tell Tony and May what was happening because the only thing he could think about was MJ. He was running, pushing himself through the swarm of people on the boardwalk. She had disappeared, nowhere to be found. She couldn’t have gone far, but Peter had searched everywhere--even down some random alley behind a store that he knew she would have never escaped to, but he had to be sure--and still came up with  _ nothing _ . Granted, this was  _ his _ fault.

 

Peter had a bad way of expressing his emotions, which he was  _ very _ aware of. He didn’t understand how to convey his feelings or problems without sounding like a fool. It was like his brain instantly turned to mush anytime he was around MJ anymore and he couldn’t think straight. But, he was going to have to pull himself together to fix  _ this _ .  _ Them _ .

 

So much had changed for him in the past six months and it didn’t feel  _ real _ . He could pinch himself right now and wake up from this horrible dream he was having, except it wasn’t a dream and this was the terrible reality he was facing. MJ and Peter had left off on a bad note and never repaired anything. It was like every previous fight or problem they had was completely pushed aside, everything was forced and fake, never genuine. Of course, his connection with Michelle hadn’t changed, but they were always skating around the real reason why they couldn’t allow themselves actually feel comfortable with each other. As much as Peter had tried to make things work, it always found a way of screwing him over in the end.

 

The night that MJ left him in his room back in Queens the night before senior year haunted him to this  _ very _ day. Physically and emotionally in every way possible. He never blamed her, he still doesn’t--it was  _ his _ fault. He should have asked if she was alright, but he didn't. They were both so clouded by raw emotion that he never thought to use his better judgement to ask if she was okay with it. She  _ seemed _ fine, but that was only an assumption to Peter. He never intended on hurting her, but he did. Peter could  _ never _ take that back.

 

MJ never called him after that. She stopped sitting with Peter and Ned at lunch and started eating in the library,  _ not _ that Peter had noticed (he did). She started hanging out with Betty,  _ before _ Ned asked her out, that is. MJ had absolutely no interest in repairing whatever happened between them and Peter eventually gave up too.

 

He couldn’t even begin to describe how it had affected in the several months that came after, but he was going to have to--for  _ her _ .

 

####

 

When he hears the familiar  _ rev _ of a very expensive sports car behind him, he tenses. He breathes through his nostrils and ignores the familiar burning that he feels along with it. He turns on the balls of his feet and looks dead ahead, watching the car roll up slowly. When the window rolls down, the familiar set of eyes behind orange tinted glasses is staring back at him.

 

“Kid, what’s going on?” He asks in a scary dad-like voice. It should make Peter uncomfortable, but strangely, it  _ doesn’t _ . “MJ was freaking out and crying and you just  _ ran _ off. Look, I’m sorry if I said something that upset her, Pete. You know, I’m just not great with,” he gestures with his hands wildly, looking for a good word to describe what he was trying to say, “ _ teenagers _ .”

 

“Clearly.” Peter huffs, brushing some curls out of his face. 

 

He  _ really _ didn’t have time for this.

 

“Look, it’s my fault. Completely.” Peter was taking full blame, mostly because it was the truth. “But, I have to fix this--now. Before she leaves.”

 

Tony starts to open his mouth but Peter interrupts again, “Tell May that I’m sorry. She probably hates me for ruining this trip for her so quickly.” They hadn’t even managed to make it through an entire day yet. Great. Peter was the ruiner of  _ literally _ everything.

 

“She’s probably hating me more than you, kid. But, yeah. Just--fix it… or  _ whatever _ it is that you have to. You two don’t deserve all of this.” Tony’s speaking like he’s some type of  _ therapist _ and Peter hates it, but he’s right. “Word of advice though, kid--”

 

“Yeah?” Peter asks, crossing his arms over his chest. 

 

“Women love words.” Tony says smoothly, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Trust me. I would know. I’ve dealt with  _ too _ many angry women before-- _ not _ that May is an angry woman, but--”

 

“Got it.” Peter nods, shoving his hands in his front pockets and turning back around. “Thanks, Tony.”

 

There’s a soft noise of approval from Tony before he revs off again, leaving Peter alone.

 

Woman. Love. Words.

 

Good. But, it would help if he could even begin to think of how he was going to apologize or say anything at all to her. This is the exact reason why he’s never had an  _ actual _ girlfriend. He wasn’t bad about explaining his emotions, he was bad at understanding others-- _ especially  _ Michelle’s.

 

####

 

Peter knocks on the door to their room ten minutes later. It was the only place she could be and the last option of Peter’s list. He wasn’t ready to face her or himself or  _ any _ of it. Before he can think, the door is opening and MJ is standing in front of him again. She hasn’t changed or cleaned up the tear stained makeup on her face, which was caused by him, and that only made him feel worse. He watches her walk back to the bed, sitting with her legs pulled to her chest. His laptop was sitting open on his bed, illuminating the dark room in an eerie way. He clears his throat not once, not twice, but three times before he can force a word out.

 

“I’m sorry, MJ.” Peter says with such conviction that he wants to cry (and he’s not afraid to).

 

“Save it.” She snaps, holding her hand up. “And don’t call me MJ. Only my  _ friends _ can do that.”

 

Peter gapes, his arms extending out to his side. He didn’t know what else to do. He couldn’t keep apologizing because that wasn’t going to make this better, _ at all _ .

 

“Fine.  _ Michelle _ . I don’t know what you want me to say to you after you told me that I was the worst thing that happened to you. We’ve only just started getting to know each other again after two years of  _ literally _ nothing.” Peter sighs, taking a breath. His face was red, but he didn’t think that Michelle could tell. “Do you know how often I tried to talk to you after everything happened?” He asks, but speaks again before she can answer. “ _ No _ , you don’t because after all the shit we went through, you just left--you didn’t even consider how I was going to feel or  _ how _ I felt after. At all.” MJ glares at him, hands grasping the edges of the laptop like she might snap it in half. He really hope she didn’t considering how expensive it was. 

 

“Why didn’t you tell me? You knew who wrote this--as soon as you read the title you should have  _ fucking _ told me, or just something,  _ anything-- _ ,” Her voice is breaking on every other word and all Peter wants to do is hold her. He balls his fists at his side, knuckles turning white. “This was a complete invasion of my privacy. No one was ever supposed to read that. Ever.”

 

“Em--”

 

“Everyone is going to know it was me…this is going to  _ ruin _ my life, Peter.”

 

“No, it’s not.” Peter assures her, taking a few cautious steps toward her.

 

“ _ Yes _ , it is.” She tells him, slamming the laptop shut. Peter flinches and grabs it from her before she can do any further damage. “You have  _ no _ idea what I’m going through, Peter. Not even a little bit.”

 

“Really? You think I don’t know?” He shouts, finally reaching a breaking point. He inhales a shaky breath and unfurls his hands. “If you want me to understand than you  _ need _ to talk to me. You  _ can’t _ shut me out like I don’t exist.”

 

“I don’t even know where to start,” She sniffles, rubbing her nose, “I’m just  _ so _ fucked up.”

 

“You’re fucked up?” Peter asks, because seriously--was he  _ actually _ hearing this? He was swallowing his pride and accepting everything he did wrong. Right now. For  _ her _ . 

“Em,” He pulls his lips in a tight line, dipping his head, “I haven’t had any kind of sober sex since that night. I mean, it’s  _ embarrassing _ , but it’s a reality.”

 

“What? Why?” She asks, letting out a laugh that held no amusement. 

 

“The first girl I tried to have sex with runs out of my room crying and doesn’t speak to me for two years.” Peter is standing in front of her now and MJ turns slightly to face him, but not enough to leave herself vulnerable to his touch. She was guarding herself. “And then the first time I actually manage to have sex with someone else, it ends in tears. How the hell was I supposed to feel? It felt like I was doing everything wrong and I still haven’t managed to figure out how to fix it. So, unless I’m  _ piss drunk _ , I can’t do it. I just...I don’t understand it, but my body shuts down and I  _ freak _ out.”

 

“Peter,” Her voice breaks and she curls in on herself, crossing her arms over her waist, “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

 

“You want to know why?” He asks, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. He figured he would be crying by now, but he was holding himself together rather well. “We don’t talk to each other, Michelle.  _ Ever _ .”

 

Michelle drops her head against Peter’s stomach and he doesn’t know what else to do besides rests his hands against her back, providing some sort of connection. It was a step, a  _ very _ small one, but it was something.

 

“It was Liz, by the way.” Peter tells her after a long moment of silence. “I had sex with Liz.”

 

“What?” She asks, slowly lifting her head to look at him. “Liz?  _ How _ ?”

 

“She gave me her number at the party. We talked for like, two months, and then the next thing I know--she’s in Queens again before I’m leaving for Columbia. She just asked,” He rubbing her back gently, not wanting to startle her away, but she seemed to be relaxing under his touch, “it was weird at first because I hadn’t seen or head from her in a while and she hits me with it, out of  _ nowhere _ . Looking back, yeah, I shouldn’t have--but I did and I can’t take it back.”

 

“Well, what happened?” She asks, curling her fingers together in her lap before sitting back to look at him. Peter quickly removes his hands and shoves them in his pocket. 

 

“Uh, we did it. But she started crying right after and I freaked out.” He sighs, not wanting to make eye contact with her. It wasn’t easy for him to talk about and it definitely couldn’t be easy for MJ to hear. “But, I made her talk to me and that’s when she told me everything. You know, about the party and…  _ you _ , all of that.”

 

“She remembers everything that happened?” MJ asks, looking down again. 

“She said that it took a while for it to all come back, but  _ yeah _ . You saved her, Em. You should be proud of that and the fact that nothing happened to you.” He wants to reach out and touch her again. Bad idea. She flinches at his words and closes her eyes.

 

“I let him hurt her. I couldn’t even move when it was happening.” She hiccups and wipes away more tears. “It should have been me, Peter. She’s always been so nice to everyone and I’m such a bitch--”

 

“Do  _ not _ start telling me that you deserved to be raped, Michelle. No one does.” His voice is stern and it startles Michelle, causing her to look at him with wide eyes. 

 

“I should be more mad at you--I  _ should _ , but--” She gasps through some short sobs, crying into her hands.

 

“You  _ were _ , trust me. And I’m not going to be upset if you still are, but we need to talk to each other.” He rubs the spot that connects her neck to her shoulder with one hand, hoping she’ll welcome the comfort. She does.

 

“I’ve always been really bad at talking about h-how I feel, but I just,” She sighs and grips at his the cufflinks rolled around his elbows, “I need to do this.”

 

“Do what?” Peter laughs, but it’s quickly drowned out by the feeling of Michelle’s hands pulling him towards her.

 

Her arms around his neck in an instant and he almost smashes her with his weight on the bed. His knees buckle and he has to use his hands to support himself over her. There’s a moment where he thinks Michelle is going to back out and throw him off of her, but she doesn’t. She forces him to look at her and closes the gap between them.

 

Peter didn’t want to question her newfound self-confidence, so he doesn’t. His lips move against her own eagerly, wanting to feel  _ more _ . They can’t seem to find a balance and the kissing switches between hot and sloppy and back to quick and chaste, but it’s  _ perfect _ . He wasn’t new to any of this, but doing this with MJ made him feel like he was going to have to learn everything over again. MJ lets the tiniest gasp escape her mouth when she parts her lips and Peter takes his chance to slip his tongue in her mouth, swiping it against her bottom lip. At some point, he’s wrapped between her legs, fully clothed and dripping in sweat. It should be disgusting but neither of them cared. He breaks apart to look at her, but her eyes are squeezed shut. In a frenzy, his hands run down her hips, squeezing enough to get her attention and he’s kissing along her jaw, and down her neck, and everywhere she’s allowing him to. He was so eager to lose himself in her that he  _ almost _ forgets the reality of the situation. Peter doesn’t want to pull away, but he does. He  _ immediately _ regrets it when he hears MJ sigh at the loss of his hands against her skin and his lips against her own. He couldn’t take advantage of her when she was vulnerable. It was all  _ too _ much for him.

“What are you doing? Were you not into that?” She asks kind of breathlessly and Peter has to pinch the bridge of his nose to keep himself from passing out. His face was just as flushed as her own, his clothes sticking to his body with sweat.

 

“Michelle. You just told me you hated me and then you want to make out with me. Forgive me for being a little  _ fucking _ confused.”

 

“I don’t know what to do,” She pouts and lets her hands fall to her side, “I thought that would make you feel better.”

 

“ _ Em _ , you need to do what makes you feel better and stop worrying about everyone else.”

 

“So, you weren’t into it?” She asks, sounding worried. Peter could literally punch himself in the face and it wouldn’t make himself feel worse than the way he feels now, looking at MJ. Her eyebrows are furrowed together and she’s looking down, hair framing her face like a waterfall of curls. 

 

“You’re  _ really _ asking me that?” He huffs out a laugh, squatting down to her level to look at her. She’s trying to hide the sympathetic smile that creeps on her face, but Peter catches it. She shrugs and closes her eyes again.

 

“Look--I didn’t want to tell you  _ any _ of that stuff. I didn’t know how you were going to react, but I care about you Michelle, way more than you will  _ ever _ understand. Not just as a girl I like, but as a genuine, wholehearted person. You are amazing and you don’t deserve any of the shit you have to go through. I obviously can’t protect you all the time, but I’ve been trying really hard since we started talking again. I never wanted to see you like this. I feel like an asshole, but it’s probably a good thing that you know some of this stuff.” 

 

He’s preaching and he knows it, but he knows MJ is listening by the way she laughs every now and then. Maybe it was because she didn’t believe him, but it didn’t matter.

 

“I used to hate myself for what happened and you walking out, but after Liz told me everything, it all made sense. I’m  _ never _ going to hold that against you. You need to understand that.” He grabs her chin so he can look her in the eye. They both take in a deep breath and MJ nods in return. “I’m not asking you to tell my everything. But, you need to open up more. I’ve always been your friend and that doesn’t change anything. Yeah, I like you--we’re  _ both _ aware.”

 

Peter has to contain himself at the cute snort that MJ makes when he finishes. They seemed to have come to an agreement and Peter was content with it.

 

“I’m never going to hurt you or try to hide anything from you, but I need you to do the same if this is going to work. We still have to more years of college and I don’t think I can get through them with you hating me this much.”

“I don’t hate you.” Michelle’s voice is small, but it’s the first time that evening that it doesn’t falter. “I just hate how much I care about you.”

 

Peter chuckles and pulls her against him, wrapping his arms around her slender body. She relaxes against him instantly, sighing when his hands touch the small dip in her back.

 

“Any time I made a bad decision, I always thought about you.” She admits, breathing against his shoulder. “I keep blaming you for all the fucked up shit I’ve done, but it wasn’t you.”

 

“What do you mean?” He mumbles against her hair, pulling back to look at her.

 

“You’re all philosophical and shit and always made good choices. Anytime I made a bad one, I always thought about what you would say to me and it just made me want to do it more.” It’s fucked up, but they both laugh anyways. They both still had their own problems to work through, but  _ this _ was progress.

 

“So, I was kind of like a really crappy Yoda?” Peter jokes, earning a soft punch from MJ.

 

_ Yeah _ , they were getting there.

 

“And I couldn’t stand you.”

 

Peter nods, “Yeah, I have that effect on a lot of people.”

 

“I hate you.” 

 

The best part about MJ is that her ‘I hate you’ always meant ‘I care about you a lot, but I’m too afraid to admit it’. So, if she was going to play that way, so was he.

 

“Yeah. I hate you too.”

  
  


####

 

When Peter finally wakes, they’re both an entire pile of limbs. Peter is sprawled out on one end of the bed, head hanging of the edge and that made total sense now that he realizes how badly his head is pounding. As for MJ, her feet are resting against Peter’s chest, her head dangerously close to his feet. His adrenaline had been running so high that last night seemed like a blur, but it actually happened. It actually fucking happened. He knew things were a long shot from being how they should be, but this was a start. A terrible start, but that’s all it took. Nothing has ever gone right in his life anyways, so why start now?

 

He blindly reaches for his phone and finds it stuffed under his back and wonders how he didn’t feel it digging into his back. He shakes his head in amusement and clicks the button on the side of his phone to turn on the screen. Peter immediately squints his eyes, the LED screen burning his retinas.

 

_ Seven forty-three am _ , he reads in his head.

 

Somehow, he figured he would have gotten more sleep.  _ Meh _ . Five seemed like enough. It wasn’t like he had classes to attend— _ no _ , he was just waiting out his impending doom. 

 

He hears, or more so  _ feels  _ Michelle begin to rustle the sheets. She groans a little and turns on her back, rubbing her eyes so hard that Peter thought she was trying to shove them as far back into her skull as she could. Peter takes the opportunity to poke her in the cheek with the tip of his foot because he had absolutely nothing else to lose right now—except his life, but  _ whatever _ .

 

MJ grimaces and shoves his foot away forcefully, wide awake. She moves into an upright position and examines herself. Neither of them had changed from last night and MJ’s makeup was still smeared on her face. Peter still found it beautiful, but didn’t say anything.  _ Definitely _ not the time.

 

“I will bite your freaking toe off if you do that again.” She threatens after a prolonged yawn.

 

Peter almost accepts the challenge but MJ catches him.

 

“Don’t try me, Peter. You  _ know _ I’m not a morning person.”

 

_ True that. _

 

Peter shrugs nonchalantly, turning so his feet were hanging of the bed and he was finally upright. He yawns and stretches his limbs, hearing and feeling a few protesting pops in his joints. Last night had been  _ hard _ . Peter felt drained and he could tell you  _ exactly _ why. Though MJ, she was still a case he needed to crack.

 

There’s a moment where they’re both just trying to wake up and then he hears the sheets shuffling like somebody is moving and he knows it’s Michelle, so he turns. But, she can’t look at him and that makes him want to look away too. They had a  _ long _ way to go.

 

Peter hears the familiar sigh and then a noise, maybe she was going to say something and then stopped, and then another noise like she’s trying to gather her thoughts. Finally, she speaks.

 

“I didn’t mean to attack you last night—with my mouth and everything.” She grimaces and face palms almost comically.

 

Peter has to laugh. He can’t help it.

 

“It isn’t funny.” Peter doesn’t believe her because she’s giggling alongside him, everything feeling a lot less forced after a few hours of sleep.

 

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t into it, so you don’t need to explain yourself.”

 

MJ looks like she’s about to defend herself and descends into a full on rant.

 

“I didn’t know what I was doing or what to say and I just—I’m not good at talking about things or communicating and maybe it was stupid, but it felt like the right thing to do and— _ wait _ , you were into it?”

 

_ “ _ Why does that surprise you?” Peter asks, offended to the fullest extent. “ _ Seriously _ ?”

 

MJ shrugs and doesn’t say a word.

 

“I flirt with you every change I get. At least, I  _ did _ . I don’t know if it’s okay to do that anymore, honestly. But, I  _ know _ that you  _ know _ that I’m into you _.  _ That’s never been a secret considering the millions of make-out sessions we had in high school. Don’t sit here and tell me that you didn’t expect me to be into that. I know you,  _ Michelle _ .”

 

She hated how formal it sounded, like he was disciplining her.

 

She rolls her eyes because he’s right and she’s too stubborn to admit. She can’t give in that easy.

 

“I didn’t expect you to be, after what happened. I was a bitch—rightfully so—but, I got over it. I realized it wasn’t a big deal since no one knew it was me who wrote the article, but it still  _ hurts _ . I was hurting. I still am. I don’t know how to handle it. Or express it. Or what to do with it,  _ at all _ .”

 

“You can work on it.” Peter assured her.

 

MJ was a piece of work, but one that Peter was willing to spend the rest of his life trying to figure out.

 

She sighs and nods in agreement because as insecure as she was about herself, she was ready to evolve and get passed all of the petty bullshit in her life and focus on what was important to her right now; her happiness, her career, and the people she loved in her life (ie. Peter Parker, but he didn’t need to know that).

 

“Do you  _ want _ to talk about last night?” Peter asks carefully, tiptoeing around the topic carefully.

 

_“_ I think I said what I needed to. Do _you_?” Truthfully, she wanted to have a fun trip that wasn’t going to be ruined by what was happening between herself and Peter.

 

“Can I call you MJ? Because last night you were  _ very _ clear on me not being able to because—“ It was a half hearted attempt at a joke, but it still made her laugh.

 

“Yeah, whatever—I don’t care. But,” MJ stops to nibble at her bottom lip, looking embarrassed. A blush wasn’t new on her, Peter had witnessed several times. But, she was nervous about something and  _ that _ made him nervous.

 

_ “ _ I like it when you call me Em... and Michelle—I don’t know why but it doesn’t bother me. Usually it would; it  _ used _ to. But, it’s kind of nice... I  _ think _ .” She wasn’t trying to give away how much she enjoyed it because that showed weakness for Peter and she didn’t want him to exploit that.

 

Not that he would do it maliciously, he just  _ really _ liked teasing her.

 

_ “ _ I thought you hated when people called you Michelle? I mean the Em thing has always been my thing. So, I was gonna keep it up whether you wanted me to or not—“, For a moment, her eyes get intense and Peter swallows loudly, “if you let me, that is.”

 

“I think it’s the way my parents say it. Like—Mich _ elle  _ this and Mich _ elle _ that. It was really annoying.” Peter could tell she was annoyed by the way she was mocking her parents’ voices. “MJ was kind of like my secret identity at school.”

 

“Everyone called you MJ.” Peter says, missing the point completely.

 

“Yeah, but parents _didn’t_. That’s what made it special.” MJ says with a small smile.

 

“You really don’t like them, do you?” Peter asks, turning his body more to look at her.

 

“I mean, they gave birth to me. So, they’re my parents by some rights—but they’ve never been  _ parents _ . They never went to my choir recitals and dance shows. They just shoved me in the classes and threw money at whoever asked for it.”

 

“ _ Wait _ ,” Peter is cheesing so hard that MJ almost,  _ almost _ punched him for it. “You were in choir  _ and _ dance _?  _ How come I never knew this?”

 

_ “ _ You never asked.” She tells him, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s not  _ that _ big of a deal.”

 

“Sure.” Peter remarks, quirking an eyebrow. But, things turn quickly and he’s trying to be more serious because he knows talking about this is hard for her. “Well, my parents are dead—so, I never got that.”

 

MJ is quiet and Peter swears she’s going to cry but she doesn’t. She laughs shakily, looking up at him with a forced smile.

 

“Enough with the depressing shit. Can we please get this day started?”

 

“ _ Absolutely _ .” He’s slightly relieved, but the tension is still itching at his nerves.

 

_ “ _ May texted me this morning about not having anything planned, though. Kind of like a relax day since we flew in late yesterday.” Peter adds before standing up. His clothes are a mess and so is his hair. He probably looks  _ ridiculous _ .

 

_ “ _ We’ll figure something out.” MJ assures him.

 

And just like that, things were good. At least they seemed that way.

 

####

 

“There is  _ no way _ you can fit that entire churro in your mouth.”

 

And that’s where Peter was wrong.

 

MJ tilts her head slightly, looking at Peter disapprovingly. She squinted her eyes and that  _ alone _ made him shudder in fear. 

 

“You doubt me too much.” MJ tells him before plucking the churro from it’s paper wrap and shoving it into her mouth slowly. She broke it half way through, but Peter never said there were any rules--just that she had to fit the entire thing her mouth.

 

Peter was feeling scrutinized by how sexual it looked, until she turned to him with stuffed cheeks. She’s chewing and trying to speak at the same time and Peter has to catch the crumbs the fall from her mouth.

 

“I vin.” She says, chewing disgustingly loud.

 

“You  _ what _ ?” Peter asks after he finishes laughing at her.

 

Michelle holds her finger up for a moment and chews quickly, ending with a hard swallow that even Peter could feel. She scrunched her face up in discomfort before looking at him.

 

“I  _ win _ .” She says proudly, wiping away the remnants of cinnamon and sugar sticking to the face.

 

**Five minutes prior** , Peter had no worries. It was a harmless bet. At the time, he was almost positive that there was no way she could shove the entire dessert in her mouth, but MJ always found a loophole. He hadn’t set rules; his first mistake. He didn’t say how long she had to finish it; second mistake. And he doubted Michelle’s ability to outsmart him; third and  _ final _ mistake.

 

“If you can’t fit all of it,” Peter is quiet for a moment, crossing his arms over his chest in thought. Suddenly, he perks up, the most mischievous grin on his face. “You have to skinny dip in front of everyone on the beach tonight.”

 

The resort they were staying at was holding a festival tonight for the tourist and people staying there, which was an oversight to Michelle, but she couldn’t back out now. They had pinky swore already.

 

“Fine.” She sighs after a few minutes of deliberation. “And if I do- _ -you  _ have to do the same thing.”

 

“Lame.” Peter states. She could do better, but this was too perfect. Karma,  _ bitch _ .

 

“ _ What _ ? You can dare me to get naked but I can’t dare you to?  _ Real _ mature, Peter.”

 

“God, no--just, fuck.. _ Deal _ .” He says quickly.

 

It was  _ too _ easy.

 

####

  
  


“What about this?” MJ asks, holding up a black graphic shirt that reads ‘ _ Prose before Bros _ ’.

 

“Sure, it looks  _ great _ ?” Peter tries to convince her, but he doesn’t even sound sure of himself. 

 

“Pathetic.” She taunts, folding the shirt over her arm because she was  _ totally _ buying it. “You love physics and biology but you can’t appreciate simple literature? What did I see in you?”

 

At first, Peter is a little shocked. MJ was careful about mention their past or how she felt, but he doesn’t directly acknowledge it. Instead, he teases.

 

“I think it’s the ‘ _ fuck me _ ’ abs.” He shrugs, peeking over a clothing rack to look at her. “I also didn’t treat you like a weird--which, you  _ were _ . But, so was I.”

 

Michelle’s earns turn red and Peter can see the deep blush creep up her cheeks, even though she’s trying to act like it doesn’t bother her. He was using her own words against her and that  _ wasn’t _ cool at all.

 

“Anyways,” MJ forces out, walking towards the front of the shop, “I’m ready to check out, so…”

 

Peter snickers lowly behind her because  _ he _ won that argument and he was going to take pride in it. The first and  _ only _ , MJ thinks.

 

“Okay.” He finally tells her when he gets himself together.

 

MJ places the shirt on the counter and digs through her wallet. Peter is alternating between leaning on the ball and heel of his feet behind her, hands shoved in his front pockets.

 

“Your total is twenty-three dollars and forty-seven cents.”

 

Michelle nods and pulls the debit card from her wallet, handing it to the cashier. The exchange is mostly silent and the other girl swipes the card quickly, pressing a few things on her screen, pausing suddenly. 

 

“Uh,” She’s holding the card up, looking at the screen, “It’s not letting my charge it. It keeps saying ‘ _ invalid funds _ ’. You might have something on your account that keeps it from overdrafting.”

 

“That’s not even possible.” MJ says aloud, surprised. She leans over to look at the screen and sure enough, the woman was telling the truth. “Uh, can you try again? I’m sorry--it’s just… I had like four hundred on my card before I left.”

 

She tries again, but receives the same results.

 

Michelle’s face drops completely and Peter hates how embarrassed she looks.

 

“I’m sorry, ma’am.”

 

MJ only nods and takes the card back, shoving it into her wallet. But, Peter feels himself reaching for his wallet before Michelle can say anything.

 

“Here, just charge it on mine.” He tells the cashier and she does so with no problem.

 

There’s a fury of exchanged nods and Peter quickly grabs the bag and receipt before exiting the store, MJ in tow.

 

“Peter… there’s absolutely  _ no _ way--like, no fucking way that even makes sense.” She’s shaking her head and scrolling through her phone in a frenzy, panic clear on her face.

 

“Maybe someone got into your account or something. Do you share it with anyone?” Peter asks, his hand resting against her shoulder.

 

Her expressing drops and she looks directly at Peter. “My parents.” She deadpans, clicking her phone closed.

 

“Really? Do you think they would do that?” Peter asks, even though he’s sure he already knows the answer.

 

“I’ve been ignoring them since everything happened.  _ Of course _ they would.” 

 

“I thought you said they didn’t care what you did?” Peter asks curiously, because MJ had a rocky relationship with them and there were some things that even  _ he _ didn’t understand.

 

“You have  _ no _ idea, Peter. At all.”

  
  


####

 

When they arrived back at their room, Peter shot a quick text to May and Tony that they were finally back and would let them know when they were ready to head down to the beach. It was still daylight, so they still had a ton of time to kill. Or in MJ’s case, argue with her parents on the phone-- _ very _ viciously. Peter took that as his que to change into his swim shorts and hop into the pool outside of their room, trying to give her some privacy.

 

MJ’s parents were a  _ delicate _ matter and as much as he wanted to get involved; it wasn’t his place. At some point, he does eavesdrop, but not purposefully. Michelle was yelling, practically, and Peter could drown it out.

 

“You don’t even care-- _ no _ \---can you let me finish-----since when do you care what---” There’s a moment where he thinks MJ is going to snap the phone in half, but instead she’s screaming into the phone. She has her ‘I’m done with your shit’ look on her face and when she makes eye contact with Peter, he expects her to get mad, but she doesn’t. Her face softens slightly, almost unnoticeably--but not to Peter. “Stop treating me like your fucking stepchild. God, I hate you! Both of you!” Peter can hear her parents yelling on the other line, but she clicks the ‘end call’ button with finality.

 

He sits on the edge of the pool for ten minutes before the glass door finally slides open. Peter didn’t know how she was feeling--Was she angry? Happy?--and he didn’t want to ask. But, when she finally sits down beside him, he  _ knows _ . Michelle doesn’t meant for her leg to touch Peter’s, but it does, and she settles next to him. She probably should have gave herself space, but for some reason, she wanted comfort. The only person she’s ever felt that from  _ was _ Peter. Respectfully, Peter doesn’t say anything--especially not when MJ slides her arm through the one that is resting on the tile lined along the pool, leaning into his shoulder.

 

If this was Michelle’s lame attempt at asking for a hug, Peter was  _ totally _ okay with it.

 

He hesitantly wraps his wet arms around her, not sure if it would  _ actually _ bother her. But, she relaxes into the hug and Peter took that as a good enough answer. She’s not sniffling or shaking, she’s not breathing heavy or giving of the vibe that she’s ready to kill someone. She seemed fine, contempt actually.

 

“Do you want to talk about?” Peter asks bravely, looking down at her.

 

“Look, I don’t know what’s going to happen, Peter.” She sighs, dipping her head down. Her hair was pulled back and it helped Peter to see her face, even at this angle. “There’s a lot that I haven’t told you.”

 

“I know how shitty your parents are. It’s cool.” He reminds her, half-heartedly.

 

“No, Peter-- _ seriously _ .” She tells him, taking a shallow breath. “I have no idea what they’re going to do and I don’t want it to affect our friendship… or whatever. I don’t want you to hate me.”

 

“Em, I could never hate you.” He speaks softly into her curls, burying his face against top of her head. 

 

“Hold on to that. Please.” MJ tells him, lifting her head up slowly to look at him. “Promise me?”

 

It seemed silly, but he did. “Yeah.  _ Yeah _ , I promise.”

 

“...but, now that you’re here…”

 

MJ contorts her face into a look of confusing, smiling curiously at him. She narrows her eyes suspiciously at the growing grin on Peter’s face. And there’s only a few seconds before she processes what’s happening, but it’s already too late. 

 

Peter had pulled her underwater, holding her by her waist. She screams, but it’s  _ literally _ drowned out by the water the fills her mouth. She should be mad,  _ furious _ \--but she’s not. Michelle does play it up for Peter though, because she can’t help but mess with him. When she finally surfaces, the water the filled her mouth had practically choked her and now she felt like she was hacking up a lung, water spurting out of her mouth every time she coughed. MJ shoves a few pieces of hair out of her face and looks at him.

 

“What the hell?” She asks through short breaths, “Are you trying to kill me?”

 

“No, no, no--Crap, I’m sorry.” He’s freaking out and couldn’t look more helpless. “I was just hoping it would catch you off-guard.  _ Shit _ , are you okay, Em?”

 

“I will be.” MJ smirks and Peter’s eyes grow wide. 

 

His feeble attempts to flee are stopped by MJ wrapping her arms around his neck, dragging him underwater with her--giving him no time to prepare to be submerged.

 

“Payback,  _ bitch _ .” She laughs when he finally breaks free, laughing--but also flopping helplessly like a fish trying to catch his breath.

 

“I hate you.” He tells her.

 

‘ _ I love you _ ’ is what he means, but he can’t find the courage to say it.

 

####

 

“Hey, try this. These little things are amazing.” Peter says, in awe of the tiny ball of quiche in his hand.

 

MJ politely shoves her hand in his face in disgust because Peter had already managed to finish an entire plateful by himself and his breath was starting to smell like bad cheese. She’s trying to find the nearest drink station to help him wash out the smell, but she doesn’t think it’s going to help much.

 

“He’s a mess.” MJ turns her head to see May whispering over her shoulder, a knowing smile on her face. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Trust me, I know.” MJ laughs, bring a hand up to cover her mouth when Peter tries to offer her some other tiny food. “He’s incomparable.”

 

“I’m also sorry that I haven’t been there for you, honey.” May’s apologizing and Michelle doesn’t know why--she always did the best she could, for everyone and everything. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now, but I’m happy you and Peter are talking again. He was so heartbroken when you two stopped talking.”

 

“He didn’t tell you why, did he?” MJ quickly builds her walls up, trying to sound defensive.

 

“No, it wasn’t any of my business. Peter was so upset, though, and for  _ weeks _ .” Michelle knows that May isn’t trying to take any shots at her, but reality still hurt like a bitch. “He cares about you so much. We  _ all _ do. Even Tony, but he’ll never admit that.”

 

Michelle laughs and finds herself reaching forward to pull May into a hug. May’s warm, motherly touch provided a comfort that MJ never knew she needed until now. She could feel her eyes burning, but she wasn’t going to cry. She  _ couldn’t _ . MJ subtedly cleared her throat and moved away to turn back towards Peter, who was finally free of any horderves--probably because the servers were hiding from him--and smiling like an idiot. He’s raising an eyebrow inquisitively, wandering what May and MJ were talking about, but he didn’t need to know.

 

When Peter nods at May in question, she quickly replies. “Girl talk, Peter.” And with that, he was over it. Typical.

 

They all turn their heads in the direction where Tony’s voice is coming from when they see him walking towards them, four champagne glasses in hand. It could have been chardonnay or regular white wine--MJ was never to big on wine, no matter how much her parents used to drink it. The only alcohol MJ had ever tried was beer, but that’s because she was terrified of what liquor would to her, considering the fact that after three beers she could be deemed as  _ tipsy _ .

 

“Tony.” May warns when she finally catches on, watching him hand two glasses to both Peter and Michelle. “They’re underage.”

 

“ _ Honey _ .” Tony is using his ‘ _ come on _ ’ voice and he’s laying it on  _ thick _ . Both MJ and Peter have to laugh at how baffled May is looking right now. “It’s Christmas in a few days. We’re on vacation. Let the kids have a drink.”

 

“Fine.” She sighs after a moment, but holds her finger up in warning. “ _ One _ glass, though.”

 

“Yes, ma’am.” Peter and Michelle reply in unison, smiling behind their champagne glasses.

 

Once Tony and May finally wander off on their own and get lost in the crowd, MJ turns to Peter with an empty glass clutched to her chest.

 

“I never thought that Tony Stark could be the ‘ _ cool dad _ ’.” MJ jokes and Peter almost chokes, some of the alcohol trickling down the corner of his mouth.

 

“Don’t call him that. It’s weird.” Peter says seriously, but it’s masked by a laugh that tries to not to sound so forced. “May isn’t even my mom.”

 

“ _ Sorry _ .” MJ says honestly, touching his arm. She quickly places her glass down on an empty table as they walk towards the front of the crowd. She leans over with her other hand and wipes away the liquid that was dripping down his chin. “It was just a joke.”

 

“Cool uncle? That works, right?” MJ asks curiously, looking at him.

 

Peter laughs nervously, but doesn’t flinch when MJ reaches her hand up. It’s kind of endearing and MJ hasn’t done anything like it before, so he’s relishing in it. 

 

“It’s better.” Peter sounds unsteady, like he isn’t entirely sure of himself. “May doesn’t really talk about it--them getting together or anything. She’s been really quiet about that stuff since Ben died…”

 

“Yeah,” She nods, linking her arm through his own. Peter has to force his knees from buckling underneath him. He finds it pathetic, considering hours ago he was tangled up over her, touching every part of her body she allowed, but this wasn’t sexual. It wasn’t intimate. It was ‘Hey, I totally don’t mind being around you and touching you like it’s completely normal’, and Peter was mentally fist-pumping at this development. He wanted MJ to get to the point of being comfortable with him on her own, he never wanted to force it. Normally, she would cuddle up to him when she needed the comfort, but this was just--touching. It was  _ awesome _ . “Or they could secretly have gotten hitched and she’s just waiting to tell you.”

 

Peter laughs and shakes his head. “No way. She tells me everything. There’s no way she would keep something like that from me.”

 

Michelle raises her eyebrow in ‘Are you sure about that?’ matter and Peter only shoves her.

 

“I’m kidding.” She reassures him, but Peter already knows. “Hey, about that bet--You really don’t have to do it. It’s cool. I don’t want to embarass you in front of all of these people.”

 

“You’re trying to reverse psychology me right now, aren’t you?” Peter asks, eyeing her carefully.

 

“No.” She tells him seriously. “We can rain check. If you want to do it  _ that _ bad. I didn’t think there would be  _ that _ many people. Plus, May and Tony aren’t drunk enough to deal with it.”

 

“Sure, rain check.” Peter winks, earning a playful shoulder bump from Michelle. “Yeah, you’re probably right. May would kill me.” And almost on cue, they both catch glimpse of May through the crowd, waving at them with a huge smile on her face. 

 

She would  _ absolutely _ kill him if he did. 

  
  


####

 

Peter and Michelle spent most of the rest of night dancing and wandering around the beach, trying to kill time. It wasn’t like they would walk back to their room from here, but neither of them actually wanted to make the move to. But, when the crowd finally starts to diminish and only a few older people are left wandering around, Michelle finally finds the courage to speak up.

 

“Tony and May already left. We probably should too.”

 

Peter nods and follows beside her, not really touching her, but keeping a protective arm around her to keep anyone from bumping into her. MJ doesn’t say anything, but she  _ definitely _ notices.

 

When the finally make it back, MJ is already barefoot--having slipped off the sandals she was wearing tonight because they were uncomfortable and she couldn’t find a decent pair of sensible shoes to wear that matched. She tosses her shoes to the corner of the room, closest to the entrance, and closes the door behind her after they’re both inside.

 

Neither of them are tired and Peter immediately suggest a movie, to which MJ politely declines, because the last thing she wants is to end up cuddled next to him watching some shitty rom-com that makes no sense (she also knew that cuddling led to making out and making out led to sex and she  _ wasn’t _ ready to deal with that all at once, or  _ ever _ ).So instead, she pulls off her cover-up, revealing the bright yellow swimsuit hiding underneath. MJ nods towards the pool and right now, it sounds perfect. 

 

She’s gone before Peter can even answer, not that he would say no. But,  _ still _ . He chuckles to himself and slips off his shirt, leaving him in his plain black swim shorts. For some reason, he actually expected MJ to force him to follow through with the bet, and he was kind of disappointed ( _ kind of _ ) when she didn’t. Suddenly, he’s feeling the same ache in his chest that he felt so many months ago, at the randomest times, but it was  _ always _ being caused by Michelle. She would do something endearing or surprising or cute and Peter wouldn’t know how to handle himself. He had been ignoring it for so long, but know he knew why it was happening.

 

He watched MJ prance her way outside, her curls bouncing in delight. He wanted her. All of her.  _ So _ badly. Moment by moment, she was becoming herself again and Peter felt like everything was falling back in place. It seemed too good to be true, but he was willing to take a risk, no matter the consequences. He had been trying to convince himself of every reason why he shouldn’t fall in love with her again, but the universe was telling him to man the fuck up and  _ do _ something about it. The pain, the swell in his chest grew stronger, and it almost felt like butterflies. He was nervous, but wasn’t sure why. 

 

It was time to be  _ bold _ , no matter how much it scared him.

 

When he looks again, MJ is bending over in the hot tub and turning the bubbles on and probably turning up the heat--not that it needed it.

 

“Peter, come on.” She yells, looking back towards him. “Stop being boring.”

 

Boring. God, he  _ hated _ that word.

 

He forces a smile and moves the sliding door to walk outside. She’s already in when he turns around and he’s thanking god that her back is to him because he’s red in the face from the blush that was creeping up his neck. Normally, he could blame it on the heat--but his shorts were already starting to get tight and--why was he even hard, again? He was cursed with the libido of fifteen year old and it always seemed to ruin  _ everything _ .

 

He clears his throat and climbs in before MJ can get suspicious, sinking it to the water until only the top of his collarbones and up could be seen. Michelle smiles comfortingly, using a hair tie to pull her hair back.

 

“Keep it down. It looks good.” Peter finds himself saying before he can realize it and MJ is staring him down  _ so _ hard now. “N-not that you don’t look good with your hair up or anything it’s just thatidont-- _ sorryimgoingtoshutupnow _ .”

 

She snorts and decides to leave her hair down and Peter actually takes some pride in that, even though he had bombed any attempt at flirting with what just happened.

 

“Fine. Hair down.” She agrees, relaxing in the water now. She’s sitting across from him and he can feel her feet graze his legs every now and then. He’s acting stiff and doesn’t want to make any attempt at moving and embarrassing himself. “Why are you so quiet? Are you good?”

 

“Yeah.” Peter nods shakingly, trying his best to reassure even though he was  _ not _ okay. He wanted to kiss her, grab her, do something to show that  _ he _ wanted her. It wasn’t  _ just _ in her head.

 

“Good.” She tells him before moving closer until she’s sitting next to him. She quickly turns on her knees to peak over the small privacy fence surrounding their patio. The beach is empty now, except for the remnants of the party that people left behind. Peter takes a moment to look up at her, up her back and at the adorably intrigued face she was making and then back down, his eyes landing on the half of her ass that was peaking out of the water and the lights in the bottom of the hot tub were not helping to hide any of her features. He was so screwed.

 

Especially screwed when Michelle’s voice tears through the silence of the bubbles and sounds of waves crashing into the shore. “Peter Parker, are you staring at my ass?”

 

“Uh,” Peter swallows once and fumbles over his words a few times before he can comprehend anything that was happening. “ _ No _ ?”

 

“You mean ‘ _ Yes? _ ’” She asks, mocking him, lowering down to his level. She’s nodding until he catches on and does the same, terrified at the smirk on her face. “Are you scared of me or something?”

 

“No,  _ no _ ,” Peter answers a little breathlessly, reeling from how close MJ was to him right now, “I was thinking, maybe, I could take you up on that bet.”

“You want to skinny dip in the pool?” She asks, laughing softly. “ _ Lame _ . You’d just be naked in the pool. It’s not like it’s the freakin’ ocean or anything.”

 

“Well, I was hoping you would want to do it  _ with _ me.” Peter finally manages to spit out after what feels like hours, his heart hammering in his chest.

 

“We’re not having sex, Peter. That’s  _ not _ what’s happening.” MJ says aloud, but it’s mostly for herself. Peter nods, though.

 

“No,” He assures her, laughing. Suddenly, he’s in her space and she’s the one who’s heart is ready to burst out of her chest. “I’m just trying to not be so  _ boring _ .”

 

Her mouth drops open in shock because he had used her words against her. But, she’s also pleasantly surprised by how bold he’s acting. Maybe he just needed some encouragement, and MJ gave it to him. And before she can even process it, he’s out of the hot tub and dropping his shorts and--wow, she  _ really _ missed that view. His ass was in her face for only a few seconds, but she would never forget about it because it was going to imprinted in her mind forever. He looks back at her with a smirk on his face, hands grabbing himself from the front to provide some decency. Not that either of them had any left around each other. Then he’s jumping in and water is splashing everyone and she’s stuck with the realization of ‘ _ fuck _ , my turn’. She knew Peter wouldn’t mind if she backed out, but she wasn’t going to do that.  _ Make _ the fucking move, MJ, she thinks.

 

“Your turn.” He shouts, cupping his hands over his mouth when he resurfaces. “Unless you’re  _ scared _ .”

 

Michelle quirks an eyebrow and pulls at the string holding her top up until it breaks free, and does the same for the bottom, and then she’s completely topless and doesn’t know whether to cover herself or embrace it. Fuck it, she’s gonna  _ embrace _ it. MJ didn’t hate her body, but it felt weird sharing it with someone again, who she  _ truly _ cared about. She takes a deep breath before lifting herself out of the hot tub and the look on Peter’s face is enough of an indication, so she doesn’t even bother teasing him. She quickly shimmies out of her bottoms and jumps in the pool before she even realizes what she’s doing. The freezing water hits her like a wall and she’s gasping for air when she finally comes back up, searching for Peter. She’s shivering like crazy, teeth chattering. They’re both laughing and holding onto each other for support, but no one’s  _ actually _ moving.

 

“Oh my god,” She gasps again, “It’s  _ freezing _ .”

 

“ _ Wimp _ .” He teases, staring at her in a way the makes MJ feel smaller than she should. 

 

“It’s kind of exhilarating, honestly.” 

 

“Yeah. I probably would have humiliated myself out there. But, you’ve seen my butt before and that made things a little easier.”

 

“ _ Shut up _ ,” She whines teasingly, splashing some water towards him, “You always make it weird.”

 

“How is it weird?” Peter asks, only  _ centimeters _ away from a very naked MJ. “We’ve both seen each other naked. It’s normal. It’s just a body. Not that you’re  _ just _ a body--you’re  _ amazing _ . I really lo-like your body. A lot.”

 

MJ laughs, water bubbling by her mouth. If she was being honest, she doesn’t know what to say. She’s  _ speechless _ . But, Peter takes that as encouragement and moves closer until his body is a little too close to her own, making her feel like she should get away, but she doesn’t. She’s still, letting her body move on it’s own. She  _ didn’t _ want to overthink this.

 

“You too.” She tells him quietly and they’re both look at each other.

 

Peter’s eyes flick from her face and to her lips and down to the top of her breasts that are visible above the water. He wants to make her feel safe, comfortable--like she doesn’t have to hide anymore. So he does.

 

There’s a brief second where he hesitates before wrapping his arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him. The tiny gasp that escapes her is enough to make Peter close the gap between their mouths, capturing her bottom lip between his teeth in a rushed, heated frenzy. Michelle is just as eager and wraps her arms around his neck, molding herself to him as much as she can. He’s sucking and devouring every piece of skin from her neck to her chin to her jaw and everything in between. When her back hits the edge of the pool, she gasps in surprise, but also pain. MJ hadn’t realized they had drifted toward the edge until they’re both seperating to catch their breath.

 

“Are you okay?” Peter asks, and MJ wants to melt. 

 

_ This _ . This is why she couldn’t let him go. No matter how indulge he was in the situation,  _ she _ was his main priority, not his own pleasure.

 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” She assures, attempting to quiet him with her mouth, grazing his bottom lip with her tongue. 

 

He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, but she takes the opportunity and melds their mouths together, and the feeling of his tongue against her own is almost foreign, but it feels  _ so _ good. Even in the water, every touch is like electricity lighting her body up in all the right places. Peter lets his hands travel down her thighs, boldly wrapping them around his waist. Meanwhile, she’s kissing him and gasping for air when she needs to, but  _ only _ when she needs to. One of Peter’s hands travel up and grip the back of her neck, holding her in place. She almost  _ whines _ at the gesture, fingers digging lightly into his shoulder blades. Luckily, her nails weren’t long enough to scratch, so she could claw as much as wanted to. At some point, the gasping turns into moaning and the subtle touches turns into grinding--the only problem, the water was preventing things from going any further. She could feel his length pressing against the inside of her thigh and it was almost too overwhelming. All of it. All of this. She wanted it  _ so bad _ . She throws her head back and Peter’s fingers are digging into her hip bones, causing her to gasp as a reaction.

 

“I  _ missed _ this,” Peter sighs out of the blue, “so much. Just you and everything.”

 

And Michelle  _ really _ wants to cry. Because, she couldn’t do it. She’s shaking before she can realize and Peter is there and holding her  _ immediately _ .

 

“Stop, Peter. Can we stop?” She asks, covering her face in embarrassment.

 

“Yeah.” He tells her assuringly, but she could tell his ego deflated a little. He wanted this as bad as she did, maybe even a little more. “Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

 

“I’m sorry.” She laughs bitterly, shaking her head. “I’m  _ trying _ . I want this. I do. But, I need time. I thought I was fine, but I’m  _ not _ .”

 

She lets out a single sob, burying her head into his shoulder. He holds her for a while, letting her cry silently into his shoulder. It only takes him a few minutes to realise that they’re both still naked and that’s probably not a good thing. He forces himself to let go of MJ to grab one of the towels stashed by the pool. He quickly pulls himself out and wraps the towel around his waist, handing MJ a towel right after. She quickly wraps it around herself, but doesn’t move. She’s staring at the ground, arms crossed tightly over her chest.

 

“Hey, Em. It’s okay.” He speaks into her hair, wet curls pressed against his face. He hugs her, tighter than he ever has, because it  _ was _ okay. “I’ll grab out suits. Go inside.”

 

MJ nods meekly and walks off. He hears the door slide open, but it doesn’t close. By the time he’s grabbed their things, she’s already dressed in a pair of underwear and an oversized shirt. Her hair was still wet and smelt like chlorine, but she didn’t care. He closes the door when he gets inside and goes to the bathroom to change.

 

When he exits, she’s sitting on the edge of the bed, toes digging into the rug placed at the end of the bed on the floor. He throws the towel into a pile of other dirty ones before walking over to her. He kneels slowly, hesitantly reaching out to rest his palms against the back on her calves.

 

“What’s wrong?” He asks softly, but MJ doesn’t say anything. Not at first. “I can sleep in the other room if you want. Or the floor. Whatever you want. It’s fine.”

“No.” She says quickly, looking down at him with sad eyes. “Please, don’t leave. You can sleep here.”

 

“Then what’s going on?” He asks, because he’s  _ genuinely _ at a loss.

 

“God, I-I hate that I’m like this.” She tells him, shaking her head. “I want this. I do. But, I’m not there yet, Peter. I want to be. But, I’m not.”

 

“Hey, hey,” He says comfortably, squeezing the back of her calf, “That’s fine. I’m not expecting anything. Ever.”

 

“Thank you.” She says quietly, almost to quiet for Peter to catch.

 

“We can work through this, okay? Things are complicated and that’s fine. I just really like you and sometimes I do before I think and I’m stupid, but--”

 

“You’re not.” She laughs quietly. “I did the same thing. Things are just… crazy.”

  
Peter shakes his head in amusement before crawling into the bed beside her. She doesn’t crawl under the comforter, so neither does he. And when she turns and nestles into him, he wraps his arms around her like she’s the only things that matter to him. Because she  _ is _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if everything seemed all over the place?? I AM A MESS.
> 
> *goes into hiding for a week*


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, sooooo - there might be a bit of gap between this and the next chapter. my week and weekends has been so hectic that i haven’t been able to write and whipped this baby up in a couple hours. i def haven’t lost any inspiration, but i really want to put good content out for y’all. so, i’m gonna try and give myself a little breathing room to get a good, decent chapter out.
> 
> like...a two week gap at the MOST. 
> 
> i really do love all of you and my consistent reviewers, you’re the absolute best. i have so many other aus in my head, i can’t wait to start on them.
> 
> anyways, i’m sorry if this chapter doesn’t meet the normal standards and if there’s a lot of typos, yikes bc i wrote this pretty quickly. i wanted to give you guys a little something, so i hope this helps.
> 
> y’all are about to feel the onslaught of peter/mj sexy times in the near future, prepare yourselves.

MJ woke up first, the pain of an impending migraine creeping up the nape of her neck. She groaned once and open her eyes, rubbing the sleep and blurriness away. When she groaned again, it matched with another. For a second, she was startled, having forgot that Peter fell asleep beside her. She quickly turned her body to face the other person in bed with her. She sighed and _visibly_ relaxed at the sight of him. MJ couldn’t be sure of what was happening or going to happen, but she was sure of one thing— _Peter_. She couldn’t tell him or _anyone_ really, how long it would take to get back to where she used to be, falling back into their old routine, it wasn’t going to be easy.

Peter coughed a few times, covering his mouth and trying to pry his eyes open. He gets one, squinting at Michelle. His features were soft and his hair was askew, pointing in every direction. The had both fell asleep with wet hair, so she could only imagine how she looked in comparison. Also the _smell_ , she hated pool water. The smell of chlorine burnt her nostrils and clung to her skin like a wet blanket.

“Mornin’.” He mumbles after a long while, the sound of the waves, wind, and animals filling the silence.

“Sleep good?” MJ asks, clearing her throat and pushing herself upright to stretch her toes to the floor. She took the time to stretch her taut muscles, squealing a little as she did so.

“ _Uh huh_.” MJ raised an eyebrow at the way Peter put emphasis on the words. He shrugged it off and laughed at the look on her face.

“So,” she sighs, grabbing her phone to check the time. It was almost eight in the morning, but not quite, “what do normal family’s usually do on Christmas Eve?”

“You act like your parents did celebrate Christmas when you were a kid.” Peter says jokingly.

“They _did_.” She says pointedly, “But, they always left me at home the day _before_ with the babysitter when I was younger. _”_

_“Really?”_ May always let Peter bake cookies for Santa, which ultimately ended up being ate mostly by the both of them, while they watched movies all day. Christmas was never something Peter got excited about, but he figured it was because he had to grow up fast and couldn’t spend it with his mom and dad like everyone else did.

“ _Yes_.” She says, like it’s the most unbelievable thing she’s told him.

_“_ You know, the older you get—the more Christmas sucks. It’s just so miserable after, like, age nine.”

“That’s specific.” Peter snorts, grabbing a random shirt hanging on the nightstand and slipping it over his head.

MJ has to physically keep herself from pouting.

She didn’t know _what_ was going on with her.

By the time there both _somewhat_ put together—MJ only pulled her hair back, still wearing the giant shirt that was doing a bad job at covering up her tall lower half, and Peter had fixed his hair so it wasn’t pointing in every direction—there was a knock on the door and some mumbling outside, Peter quickly jogged to the door to reveal Tony and May on the other side, smiling brightly. MJ and Peter were a lot worse for wear.

To be fair, handling all those teenage emotions were a lot.

“We’re gonna go grab some breakfast. We just wanted to know if you two wanted to tag along.”

“Uh,” Peter glances back at MJ who’s hidden behind the door, arms crossed over her chest. She nods once and Peter sticks his head out again. “Yeah.”

“We’ll be out in a minute.” MJ says from behind the door, her voice serene and sweet and nothing like Peter has ever heard before.

“Okay.” May says slowly, eyes squinting in a way that says “ _I’m totally on to you two_.”

Peter feels a little scrutinized but doesn’t deny anything, he quickly shuts the door in response.

“You were right.” May tells Tony, grabbing his hand. “It was a perfect idea to bring these two along.”

Tony huffs out a laugh.

“And when am I _ever_ wrong?” Tony retorts jokingly.

May looks at him sternly and he gets the hint.

“Kidding. I’m kidding.”

“ _Mhmm_.” May says, rolling her eyes playfully.

#####

“Last night was fun.” Peter says around the fork shoved in his mouth. MJ practically chokes at that.

“Manners, Peter. Come on.” May criticizes lightly, shaking her head and taking a bite of her own food.

“Sorry.” Peter says through another mouthful of food.

Tony coughs to cover up the laugh that escapes him, but MJ doesn’t even try to hide it. She laughs fully and it’s so contagious that May has to join in too.

Peter blushes and swallows the rest of the food before speaking again. “Sorry, Aunt May.”

“You’d think you were fifteen again and I was still trying to teach you table manners.” May tells him in a warm-hearted tone.

“I’m a grown man.” He says as a matter-of-fact, but no one can take him seriously.

“His mouth likes to speak before his brain can process what’s going on.” MJ suddenly interjects, speaking for the first time since they sat down. “Physically he’s twenty, but _mentally_ —“

“Don’t go there.” Peter warns, shoving more food in his mouth.

“—he’s more like a twelve year old than a fifteen year old.” MJ finishes proudly, picking at her muffin and nibbling on small pieces.

Peter mocks her voice in a girlish way, earning a soft, playful slap from Michelle.

“Point proven.” She explains, looking at both Tony and May.

“It _was_ nice, though.” MJ shrugs, taking a sip of her orange juice. “Last night.”

Michelle didn’t clarify which part of the night and it shouldn’t have bothered Peter as much as it was.

“You two do look pretty rough.” May says as she finishes up her food. “You sure you two didn’t sneak any alcohol back to your room?”

“Come on, May—they’re not kids. It’s an innocent indulgence, as some may say. They’re on vacation, let them have fu—“ Tony is cut off by Peter, because Peter is more scared of May than Tony.

“No, Aunt May. We didn’t.” He chuckles lightly, glancing warily over at MJ. He can see her fumbling idly with her fingers under the table. Maybe she wanted to say something? Or maybe she was nervous?

“And no one calls it an innocent indulgence,” MJ says out loud, “not millennials, anyways.”

“I’ll never understand them.” Tony sighs, shrugging and relaxing back into his chair. “All of your slang and secret code that you talk in. I’m a genius and it’s _still_ confusing.”

“Where is this conversation going?” May butts in with a laugh.

Peter quickly adds a mumbled, “I know.” But now MJ is schooling Tony Stark on millennials and how to _be woke_. 

He’s loving it.

“Well,” May piped up loudly, interrupting Tony and MJ’s banter after a while, as entertaining as it was, “we didn’t have any specifics planned today—not that I’m aware of. Plus, I think it’s supposed to rain today, right?”

Tony lifts his phone off the table halfway, scrolling through to confirm what May was saying. He shrugs and looks at the two younger adults across the table.

“Maybe, maybe not. You know how that stuff goes. Just keep yourself busy, or _don’t_. Relax for today. We have some stuff planned tomorrow, but we’ll worry about that later.” There’s a hint of something in Tony’s voice that he Peter can’t pinpoint, but he’s sure that he’s onto how him and MJ had been acting.

May was just as suspicious. She kept giving Peter suggestive looks when MJ was distracted by Tony and his never-ending banter. She would mouth things like ‘Are you two okay?’ and ‘What was going on this morning?’, which only made things worse because he couldn’t answer. He shrugged and ignored her questions, not wanting to talk about it.

He didn’t want to talk about what he couldn’t even understand on his own.

“In that case, we’re marathoning.” MJ says giddily.

“If we can actually decide on something.” Peter huffs, but there’s no annoyance or anger behind it. It was always just a challenge to decide on something.

“Marathoning?” May and Tony ask at the same time.

MJ rolls her eyes jokingly, crossing her arms.

“In high school, MJ and Ned used to come over and pick shows that we could watch and see how much we could marathon in one sitting.” Peter explains simply.

“It’s _pretty_ damn liberating.” MJ says, a smile on her face. “Plus, movies are trash.”

“Are not.” Peter retorts, _severely_ offended.

“ _Are too_.”

Neither of them would win the argument and five minutes later, Tony and May would have to physically remove the two from the table before ordering them back to their suite.

“ _Kids_.” Tony sighs, “What a handful.”

“You’d be a great dad.” May says honestly, wrapping her arm in his as they walked a decent distance behind MJ and Peter—letting them argue, but making sure they got back to their room.

####

“ _No_ , for the tenth time. We are not watching Criminal Minds.” Peter says, arms and legs crossed on the couch. He looked like a five year old who couldn’t get his way. 

“Come on,” MJ whines, grabbing both of Peter’s shoulders and shaking him slightly, “ _Please_.”

MJ was laying it on thick now, pouting and begging with her hands clasped together. She got on her knees after a while and—god, that was a _view_. Peter had to clear his throat loudly to try and break the tension.

“You’re not a beggar.” Peter says slickly, his voice teasing but shaky. “Not a _good_ one, at least.”

MJ looks _fully_ offended, the evidence of it clear in the way her face drops. Her brow raises in amusement and Peter expects her to punch him, so he’s trying to prepare himself physically and mentally, but the words that come out of her mouth are nothing that Peter expected to hear.

“When I try,” She says slowly, lifting up a little so her back is straight but her knees are still resting against the carpet, “I can prove to be really, _really_ good at it.”

“That doesn’t work on me.”

Peter is trying to stay strong but MJ is _maniacally_ evil and amazing at everything she does. Peter couldn’t take his eyes away.

“Oh.” She’s pouting again, looking down at her hands that were resting loosely against the front of her body. She shrugs and shakes her head slowly, “Well, it _used_ to.”

“Those were... different times.” Peter says, choosing his words carefully. “I’ve _evolved_...”

“ _Sure_.” Her words are slurred a little and now she’s creeping closer, moving her knees in small increments.

And his legs are opening up instinctively the closer she gets, but he wasn’t going to admit that. His arms are suddenly gripping the sides of the cushion in anticipation.

“What are you doing?” Peter has to ask, sounding a little breathless. It made him blush, the way that Michelle could make him feel—by a look, a touch, just the tone of her voice.

“I’m fucking with you, Peter.” She says after a second, a smirk growing on her face. “ _Jesus_.”

“What?” Peter squeaks. “Why did you have to do _that_ then?”

“Do what?” MJ asks, eyeing Peter suspiciously. She had moved from her previous position, plopping down right next to him, practically falling into his lap. The nerve this woman had. “Get on my knees and beg?”

Peter didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. MJ was smart enough to read between the lines. Also, Peter had an amazingly expressive face.

“ _Shit_ , if that’s all it takes. I’ll remember that for next time.” She teases, wiggling her hips suggestively. 

“Stop.” Peter says, clasping his hands together in his lap, more so to cover the annoying hard-on that hadn’t went away yet. The imagine of MJ on he knees was going to be imprinted into his brain for the rest of eternity. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to see it again.

“ _Oh_ , sorry.” MJ apologizes when she realizes his discomfort, but she doesn’t comment on it directly.

Peter has to clear his throat to cut through the awkward silence and then MJ speaks again.

“Is that really like, a thing... for you?” She asks, gesturing to her previous actions. “I didn’t think that was a thing that actually turned guys on. Then again, what do I know, right? I don’t have a dick or anything. Girls work differently.”

MJ can see Peter cringing, like he’s too scared to speak. She was rambling anyways. She was about to apologize when Peter finally gains the courage to speak.

“It’s not really a _thing_. It’s just, with everything that has happened—I’m really...” Peter lingers on a word, but MJ interjects, “— _sensitive_?” She asks innocently, and Peter laughs at that. “Ugh, no. More like...just, affected. By _you_.”

“Oh, okay.” It was Michelle’s turn to sound and _feel_ a little breathless. She never thought she could make him feel like that again. In high school, it was easy. She could strip her top off and capture him in her mouth and Peter would be gasping for air in seconds. She was just _that_ mesmerizing.

“You know that I’m into you. You can’t use that against me.” He tells her. He’s joking, but it’s also honest.

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.” She smiles softly, hitting the spot above his knee lightly with her fist. “We should really figure _this_ out.”

“Not right now.” He sighs. “We have some Criminal Minds to watch.”

MJ almost squeals and pumps her fist into the air.

“That shit totally worked. _Screw that_ , I’m totally gonna start seducing you when I want to get my way.”

Peter stares at her, mouth slightly agape.

“What? Can’t say it didn’t work.”

And damn was she right about that.

Peter didn’t say anything when about three episode in, her hand gravitated towards his thigh, wrapping her arm through his own to lean against him. She was rubbing small circles with her fingers into the soft skin there, just above his knee, where the fabric of his shorts snagged on the couch a bit. 

And MJ doesn’t say a word when Peter drapes his arm over her shoulder, brushing some of her hair behind her ear. His fingers ran lightly against the side of her neck, a little teasingly. But, she didn’t think that Peter noticed.

It made her realize, in all the harrowing situations she’s been in, being touched in ways she didn’t want to be, Peter was the _only_ exception to that. Her body didn’t tense, it didn’t lean away. In fact, she leaned closer.

By the end of the first season, she was practically straddling him. A leg draped across his own, holding the underside of MJ’s thigh with his hand, the warmth lingered there, made her body tingle in all the best ways. By the end of the next episode, a blanket had somehow found itself covering their intertwined bodies, the only noise in the room was the sound of their matched breathing.

It was the first time MJ had slept without tension or fear. Peter was the one, she knew that.

She wanted to learn him again in _every_ way possible. She needed this. Not just for herself, but for _him_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *flings self into outer space*
> 
> be honest, how was it? i’m such an asshole, i’m sorry :((( ilyasm
> 
> also i wrote and posted this on my iphone so sorry if the format was weird. i rarely ever do that, so don’t get used to it.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys literally /don't/ even understand how much your reviews mean to me. It literally makes my day when I read them, even though I say it constantly. I can't wait to post more stories in the future, because I have a lot planned for these two. Writing has been my only other focus right now other than, ya know, adulting. So, I hope this chapter doesn't entirely suck, oops. (it's still rated as mature but this chapter could be considered explicit, so you've been warned)
> 
> I'm giving you pure, unbeta'd smut. I literally have no other experience in writing it other than this and it's probably trash but it happened. Trust me, there is still plot to this story (hopefully it's making sense to you all). 
> 
> ANYWAYS, enjoy and let me know what you're thinking (because a ya girl is needy and loves reading what you guys say).

The sound of thunder and lightning cracking through the thick, stagnant air is what wakes Peter up. MJ was still in the deepest sleep possible; fitting, since she seemed to thrive among chaos. The wind was howling outside and palms trees were fighting against the current of the air, they looked like they were going to snap at _any_ second. May seemed to have been right about the rain, but they all may have underestimated the power of it. The rain was light, at the moment, the faintest sound of _pitter patter_ as it hit the glass doors. Peter moved uncomfortably, straining his neck to look over Michelle’s head to see outside.

 

He doesn’t remember when it happened, but they had eventually found a position comfortable enough to where they were both lying down and MJ was smashed up against him. Peter wouldn’t even classify it as cuddling, it was more like she was hanging on so she wouldn’t fall of the couch. The couch was big enough though, so he doubted that. Her hair was tickling his cheek and he tried  _ gently _ to move it away, but woke her up the process. Almost on cue, a loud  _ crack _ rips through the silence and startles both of them. Peter continues to hear the noise until the power suddenly cuts, leaving them in the dark--despite the natural light from outside, though the sun was setting now--and MJ grumbles something under her breath before rolling on her side and Peter tries to catch her before she falls, but she rolls too much and lands on her butt with a soft thud.

 

“Nice. This is exactly what we needed.” She groans, attempting to pull herself up. She fails, no surprise there, so Peter grabs her hands and helps her to her feet. She casually examines her backside and grimaces, causing Peter to stifle the laugh that escapes him. “What? You thought it was funny?”

 

“No. Of course not.” He tells her, offering a sincere smile. “You’re really cute when you’re angry is all.”

 

“I’m not angry.” She says, a snark in her tone. Peter tilts his head and MJ realizes that she proved his point by responding that way. “ _ No _ . Shut up, Peter.”

 

Peter sighs dramatically for effect before pushing himself off the couch, throwing the blanket to the side. Despite his urge to spark up a conversation or make a move--just kiss her or something, as much as he wanted to--he needed to fix the problem at hand. They had no power now and he knew that places like this usually had back up generators in cases like this, but they hadn’t kicked in yet, and the worried him. He wanders throughout the apartment, flipping a couple of light switches for no real reason or maybe he was hoping that maybe the power would magically come back on. It didn’t.

 

Michelle comes into the kitchen a few minutes later, blanket wrapped around her body. He had to admit, the storm had made it chillier than he anticipated. He quickly moved around the room to close the windows and sliding door and, like clockwork, the rain started to come down with more intensity. There was a loud smack as a cover from one of the chairs flew off and hit the glass door, the wet material sticking to it like glue. Peter looks back at MJ, who is just as startled, but leaning against the counter, still  _ very _ tired.

 

“Uh, let me try calling Mr. Stark or something.” Peter turns on his heels and makes his way towards MJ, and she’s already holding his phone, screen pointing in his direction. 

 

“He just texted you, actually.” She states, wiggling the phone a little and allowing him to grab it from her hands.

 

Peter starts to type a reply, but is cut short by the rampant knocking on the door. MJ speed walks over, making it to the door before him and opening. He doesn’t expect to see Mr. Stark bent over, hands on his knees, breathing heavily and drenched, worried Aunt May standing on the other side.

 

“Kid, I tried to calm her down. I told her you two would be fine. But she  _ insisted _ .” Tony manages to say through several shallow breaths. May shoots him a look and  _ drags _ him inside.

 

“May, it’s fine. We’re okay.” Peter assures her, but allows them inside. May wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

 

“Yeah. We’re okay.” MJ adds for more reassurance, but May isn’t convinced. 

 

And still, through all the commotion, no one notices Tony exit the room when a knock comes to the door. Peter and MJ were too busy trying to calm down May, who always got worried in situations like this. If she didn’t have control over it, she was  _ freaking _ out.

 

“So,” Tony begins, closing the door behind him, “They’re telling us we need to evacuate.”

 

“What?” The other three say at the same time.

 

“Tomorrow is Christmas. They can’t do that.” Peter adds, like it matters.

 

“It’s a safety precaution.” Tony explains, putting his hands out in front of him. “Being this close to the ocean, with the winds and everything, they want to be safe. That’s all.”

 

“Well, what are we going to do?” May asks, crossing her arms. “We can’t just fly out with the weather like this.”

 

“I already called my assistant, Happy, he booked us a hotel a few miles away. It’s safer there, for  _ all _ of us.” 

 

May seems to calm down at that, relaxing her shoulders. Peter wraps a comforting arm around her shoulder, squeezing gently. She offers a soft smile, which Peter returns.

 

“We’ve had worst ways to spend a Holiday, May. It’s fine.” 

 

And by that, he meant spending the last two weeks of December planning for his Uncle Ben’s funeral several years ago. Since then, he’s tried to make the holiday not as sad and depressing as it usually was. Peter had been so caught up in the whirlwind of events that had happened on the trip, that he hadn’t even once thought about it. He was long past the processing and grieving part, mostly because staying strong for May was his biggest concern. Peter was her rock and that put a lot of weight on his shoulders, but he was trying his  _ best _ .

 

“I’ll give you two a couple minutes to pack. But, we have to be quick.” Tony tells them, motioning around the room. “There’s a lot of crowding in the lobby and I’d like to avoid it as much as possible.”

 

Peter and MJ both nod obediently and quickly start gathering there belongings. May and Tony leave soon after, waiting outside the door.

 

“This sucks.” MJ says quietly, balling up her clothes and shoving them inside her suitcase.

 

“Yeah.” Peter sighs, shoving his laptop in his bag. “I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s not your fault.” MJ adds quickly, barely making eye contact with him. “It just, after everything, I need something calm, relaxing--all I ever attract is  _ chaos _ .”

“ _ Hey _ ,” His voice is strong and it sends a jolt through Michelle’s body, causing her to look at him, “this is not because of you, Em. Stop that.”

 

“I do attract all the bullshit. I’m like, a shit magnet or something.” She laughs dismally, zipping up her suitcase as she finished. 

 

Peter slings his bag over his shoulder, walking over towards her. He’s almost happy for once that MJ is as tall as he is, because they’re staring at each other eye level, and he doesn’t have to look down at her. 

 

“Stop it.” Peter tells her and he’s serious. “You don’t get to do that. We’re on this trip and we’re having fun--I am, for the most part. As soon as we get back, you can self-pity all you want. But, I’m not letting you do that here.”

 

“Do what?” Michelle asks, her brown doe eyes boring into his own.

 

“Feel like this is your fault.” He tells her and sighs again, closing his eyes. “I get it. A lot has happened. I know. Trust me, I fucking  _ know _ . And if you want to act like nothing happened when we get back-- _ fuck _ , I just--I’m okay with that. I just want to make the rest of the trip enjoyable, for whatever time we have left.”

 

Peter still wasn’t sure where MJ’s head was at, because any time he tried to get her to really open up or let her guard down, she froze up and freaked out. He wasn’t mad about it, but the mixed signals were screwing with his head. It could have been because they were sharing a room together, or she felt sorry for him, whatever--it didn’t matter. He just wanted Michelle to be  _ happy _ . She deserved it a million times over.

 

“Okay.” She breathes, nodding in agreement. “ _ Enjoyable _ . I can do that.”

 

Peter hears something in her voice, like she’s plotting or planning, but doesn’t say anything. He’s probably over-analyzing,  _ again _ . He quickly gathers the rest of his belongings and nods towards the door when he realizes MJ has finished to.

 

“Okay, let’s go.”

  
  


####

 

Michelle had realized at some point that evening, being cuddled up to Peter, that no matter how much she wanted him, she  _ wasn’t _ ready. Maybe it was the way he could transition so smoothly between being a friend and then more, without missing a beat. She didn’t deserve him, not in the way she may have wanted. She hadn’t been able to hold a steady relationship since she graduated and ended up having casual sex encounters whenever she had the chance, because she’s woman in control of her own body and she was allowed to do that. She didn’t need to prove that to  _ anyone _ . MJ was a strong woman and she could hold her own, no matter  _ how _ broken down she was. She could figure something out--she  _ would _ . But, Peter had clear feelings for her and that was something MJ had never navigated before (and maybe it was just because of the fact that MJ kissed him, which, she doesn’t regret, but it might have kick-started something she wasn’t ready for) and the last thing she wanted was to hurt Peter.

 

She liked the idea of comfort and Peter supplied that. He made her feel safe and comfortable, like she didn’t have to hide herself around him and that was all the more reason MJ wanted to keep her guard up. It terrified her, the idea of feeling something other than lust and want. She had managed being a good friend to Peter, as much as she could, but she wasn’t sure she was ready to be  _ that _ person for him. Not yet. But,  _ boy _ did she want him.  _ Badly _ . Her own thoughts were conflicting each other and she couldn’t escape. She felt like she was going to explode. MJ only hoped she was doing a better job at hiding it.

 

“ _ Look _ ,” Peter laughs, holding up a towel folded into the shape of a swan, “how is this even possible? Seriously?”

 

MJ snorts softly and shakes her head, relaxing as she stretched out over the queen sized bed, hands resting against her stomach and her feet propped up the comforter. Peter was acting restless, which  _ might _ have been because of the midday nap they took--scratch that, it  _ was _ . He was wandering around the room aimlessly, looking through drawers and pamphlets, checking random rooms and--

 

MJ set up on the bed suddenly, breathing in through her nostrils. “Peter, stop fucking moving.  _ Please _ .”

 

She can hear the material of his socks slide against the hardwood floor as he stops, startled and gawking at her. “What? I just--have a lot of energy.”

 

“Well, bottle it up. Save it for later.” She tells him, pointing flippantly in his direction. “My head hurts and I can’t concentrate with you  _ all _ over the place.”

 

She can see him creep towards her slowly from the corner of her eye and she sighs loudly, falling back on the bed, bouncing slightly. 

 

“What are you doing now?” She asks, eyes closed. 

 

“Grabbing my laptop.” MJ can hear the innocence in his voice and she almost laughs. Almost.

 

“Why?” She asks, crossing and uncrossing her legs a couple times until she finally just lays there, flat on the bed.

 

“No reason.” He mumbles and not so inconspicuously makes his way towards the bathroom.

 

“Why are you taking your laptop into the bathroom?” MJ feels like she already knows the answer, but she presses the issue anyways. Though, it wasn’t really an issue at all. She just liked watching him squirm.

 

“Uh--so I don’t bother you...” It doesn’t answer her question and Peter knows that. MJ turns suddenly, lifting her her up to look at him. She has a faint smirk on her face and he hates how much she’s enjoying this.

 

“ _ Peter _ ...” She says slowly, inquisitively--Peter has to literally suck in a breath because he knows she knows and he doesn’t even want to admit it out loud because that was just  _ too _ embarrassing.

 

“ _ Fine _ .” Peter practically yells, defeated. “I’m trying to jack off in private because that’s probably the only way I can get rid of all this energy I have. Happy?”

 

MJ laughs, her mouth falling open. She didn’t think he actually had it in him to admit it out loud. She had been wrong about a lot of things lately.

 

“So, you were just going to masturbate like,” MJ purses her lips together, pondering on a thought, “ten feet away from me and expect me not to find out?”

 

“It’s not like I can do it out here.” He admits like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, but the look on MJ’s face is making him think otherwise. One of her eyebrows is quirked up in a way that says ‘try me’ and Peter finds it incredibly hot. He didn’t understand how she could go from annoyed and closed off to ‘hey, just jack off in front of me, it’s totally cool’. Peter rolled his eyes and gripped his laptop tight because he was, in fact, not dealing with this shit right now. He didn’t need to be scrutinized any longer. 

 

“I never said you couldn’t.” MJ says calmly, crossing her arms.

 

Michelle was a sexual being, she  _ knew _ that. No matter what she’s been through, she’s allowed to enjoy herself. Without feeling or regret. She could just  _ wanted _ , and that’s all she needed to prove to herself that it was okay. Still, she might have been scaring Peter, who was normally quiet when it came to situations like this. But, his body always said otherwise.

 

“Oh my god, MJ.” He groans, walking into the restroom and closing the door. Peter was the definition of  _ mortified _ .

 

MJ lifts herself off the bed and rests her feet against the cold floor of the hotel room. She wants to laugh, but it seems impossible when Peter isn’t any more than a room away from her, getting off, with her  _ knowing _ about it. And then it dawns on her, that maybe she can do  _ this _ . Sex, or whatever,  _ without _ feeling. She could do that. She had done it plenty of times before.

 

It was a risky move, she knew that. Peter had feelings for her, real  _ apparent _ feeling; but maybe it could work. MJ couldn’t deny her attraction, it had always been obvious. She never tried to hide her teasing or flirting, even when it made Peter blush, it only made her want it  _ more _ . She was hopeful that they could come to an agreement… or something. 

 

So, with one final try at talking herself out of this (she can’t, and she wanted him so shamelessly it  _ hurt _ ), she fails and knocks on the bathroom door. She can her a groan and a loud noise, probably Peter slamming the laptop closed, and then the door swings open.

 

“Let’s have sex.” MJ blurt out all at once. It wasn’t as smooth as she intended to be, but fuck it.

 

“ _ What _ ?” Peter asks in disbelief, almost like she was joking with him. And  _ god _ did he hope she wasn’t.

 

“Look. I haven’t had sex since August.” She admits and Peter is gawking again, so MJ keeps talking. “It was really lackluster and I ended up kicking him out of the apartment while you were sleeping--and  _ yes _ , I know I broke that rule, but  _ fuck you _ , I wrote that list.”

 

“Michelle, I don’t think I can--” Peter huffs and closes his eyes, stepping out of the bathroom and putting his laptop on the nightstand.

 

“Look, it’s just sex. You don’t have to fall in love with me,  _ alright _ ? I don’t even think I’m ready for that anyways. It’s super easy. I know a lot of people that have done it before and it’s cool.”

 

“We’re  _ not _ friends with benefiting this, Em.” Peter tells her, but it sounds like he’s trying to reassure himself.

 

“I never said that.” MJ shot back quickly. “Just once. That’s it.”

 

“Just once?” Peter asks, wondering what the hell had changed in Michelle. But, he didn’t think he had the self control to turn the opportunity down if and when it arose. He wanted her too damn badly. “Em, what are you even asking for?”

 

“I’m horny, okay?” She admits, “I want to have sex and  _ enjoy _ it, for once. I am so tired of overthinking everything and worrying and I just  _ want _ this, okay? But, I’m asking you, because--I… don’t know if it means that much to you. I don’t know if I’m ready to start anything, Peter. But, I-I can do sex. It doesn’t have to mean anything. I’m trying to make this  _ enjoyable _ \--for what time we have left.”

 

Michelle had exploded, at that point. Once she started talking, it didn’t stop, and now Peter was staring at with wide eyes, trying to process everything. For once, Peter wanted to stop thinking and let instinct take over. He had spent so much time wanting sex to mean something that he never thought about doing it just because he fucking  _ wanted _ to. The idea was intriguing as hell. Only problem was, he liked Michelle, and once that gate was opened, he didn’t think he could shut it. 

 

“Okay.” Peter replies before he can even process. He was hoping for some sort of miracle. 

 

“What, seriously?” It was MJ’s turn to be surprised, but she quickly recovers and smiles. “Okay, well, I do have some rules… well, they’re not really rules, but like--”

 

“MJ, spit it out.” Peter laughs nervously, taking a few steps towards her.

 

“Um, can we not say each others names?” She asks him and Peter nods slowly, “It helps keep it...not so, sensual. Also no kissing.”

 

“ _ What _ ?” Peter whines, a little disappointed. “Are you serious?”

 

“Yes.” MJ says sternly, and Peter doesn’t argue.

 

“Fine. Totally unfair, but  _ whatever _ .” 

 

MJ nods and looks over to her beside suddenly, she quickly jumps on the bed and crawls over, pulling out her bag of toiletries. Peter notices the familiar packaging and catches it when she tosses it towards him.

 

“Don’t judge me. I always carry them.” She says quickly, throwing her bag on the floor. 

 

“I’m  _ not _ .” He chuckles softly, before pointing towards the light switch, “Should I?”

 

MJ nods and slowly crawls towards the edge of the bed, watching Peter walk towards the door to flip the light switch off. They leave the bathroom light on, mostly because they’re too scared of tripping over each other and hurting themselves. Peter also locks the door for good measure before turning back around and walking towards her. He’s fumbing with his hands then, not sure how to start this or what to do.

 

MJ makes the first move, reaching for the edge of his cotton shirt and pulling it over his head.

 

“ _ Shit _ , okay. This is happening.” MJ can hear Peter mumble under his breath, his gaze following the hands that trailed up his chest.

 

“Last chance, Peter.” She breathes out, eyes flickering up to look up at him through her long eyelashes.

 

“I thought you said--” When he makes eye contact with MJ she laughs, casually pulling her shirt over her head. Peter was a little bummed at that, considering she had taken care of his. But, he smiles when he sees her donning the only lacy bra she had brought with her on the trip. She was an evil mastermind and she didn’t even know it (except she did and she wore it on purpose, but Peter was clueless to  _ everything _ ).

 

“You  _ know _ what I said.” It’s teasing and Peter knows it was a stupid thing to say, but he was hoping it would help ease his nerves.  _ Wrong _ . “Shut up and take your shorts off.”

 

Peter has never undressed faster, slipping them off in record time, leaving him in his underwear. It clung to his body in all the right places and he sucked in a breath when he saw MJ glance down at his dick, straining almost painfully against the material. He has to clear his throat to break her trance, the smallest hint of a blush creeping up her cheeks.

 

Who could blame her? MJ was admirer and  _ damn _ good one. She could stare at him all day and never get tired of it. 

 

A familiar noise of a button popping has Peter reaching for the front of MJ’s pants, pulling her hands away.

 

“Let me.” Peter’s voice is oddly rough and it has MJ obliging faster than she can think.

 

They weren’t even naked and Peter was already causing her to feel things.  _ Good _ things, at least. She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, biting gently. Her hands are resting mid-air by her side, watching as he pulls the zipper down and slips his thumbs past the material, attempting to pull it down in one fluid motion. When he doesn’t, MJ wiggles her hips playfully, helping the piece of clothing slip past her hips and to the floor. They both start laughing when they finally find the courage to look at each other, feeling warm and euphoric, but it’s cut short when Peter finds his way between her legs, his right hand coming down to cup the front of her underwear, the material already damp and hot. Fifteen year old Peter would have buckled at his knees and came in his pants right there and twenty year old Peter was feeling the same way, but he manages to find some focus and rubs teasingly, testing things out.

 

“Is this okay?” He asks because he needs to know that’s still down for this, for him (for now).

 

“ _ Yeah _ .” Her breath catches in her throat. She had forgotten how sensitive she could be sometimes and it was driving her crazy. The familiar heat pooling in her lower abdomen had her yearning for more. “Just don’t take too long.”

 

“No problem.” He chuckles, relaxing his shoulders a bit. For a brief moment he moves away and MJ actually whines at the loss of contact, but it’s all made up for when he’s shoving her up the bed, laying her out and climbing over her. Normally, MJ would have stripped herself bare by now, but Peter didn’t seemed bothered by the barrier of material since he casually slipped it to the side, just enough to allow his fingers full contact--and he wants to choke now, because his fingers are sliding against the wetness between her legs and this is actually the  _ best _ thing that has happened to him this entire trip.

 

MJ hums softly, legs widening instinctively. It was like an invitation for Peter to go further and he did. He slipped a single finger in first, slowly and carefully. Peter didn’t want to force too much on her at once, so he took his time, only allowing himself to go as deep as the first knuckle at the beginning and then MJ taps his hand and he tries to pick up the pace, slipping his entire finger in as far as he can. The moan that follows sends a signal to Peter’s dick that makes him suck in a sharp breath. He’s trying to fight the urge to rut against the bed sheets to relieve some of the tension that was building. He continues like that for a while, lazily dragging his finger in and out, occasionally rubbing against her folds and back in until she’s asking for more. The second finger is a little tougher to take and he’s trying to be slow, but MJ is practically forcing herself onto his fingers, hips bucking every now and then. He angles his hand so his thumb can rest against her clit, rubbing soothing circles while he allows her to move her hips at her own pace. Normally, Peter would feel embarrassed, but he doesn’t. MJ was enjoying herself and he was giving that to her,  _ allowing _ herself to feel good, without any shame or fear. 

 

By the time he slips a third finger in, he’s crooking his fingers in a way that makes MJ yelp in surprise. She has to cup her hand over her mouth to stifle the laugh that escapes after, but it quickly transitions to a moan of both pleasure and pain. It had been a while since her last time and it always took a while to adjust, so she was thankful that Peter suggested this first, all the more reason this had been a good idea. Peter was a thoughtful man (even more so in bed, MJ prays).

 

“Do you want me to--” Once his fingers are out and he’s wiping them on his boxers, MJ finds the courage and strength to look at him, her bottom lip swollen from how hard she had been biting it. She was staring down at him now and Peter  _ actually _ grabs his dick in his free hand and MJ smirks because he was being a smart ass about it, but he shakes his head.

 

“No, it’s fine.” He tells her. “I don’t think I would last that long if you... _ yeah _ ,”

 

“Sucked you off?” MJ asks. “You can say it. It’s not weird.”

 

“Shut up.” He says softly, laughing light-heartedly and reaching down to push down his underwear.

 

MJ catches on quickly and rids herself of her underwear and bra, making sure to through the black lacy garment in his direction when she does. He catches it one hand, not even looking, and MJ finds it hotter than she should.

 

“Nice try.” He says teasingly, tossing it to the side. He blindly reaches for the condom, eyes following her naked body. 

 

He tried to  _ not _ make this a big deal. He had seen Michelle naked before several times, but knowing that he was going to  _ physically _ be inside of her in a mere matter of seconds was nerve-wracking, so he was trying to savor the moment, or what was left of it.

 

“How do you wanna do this?” Peter asks. 

 

He doesn’t remember sex involving this much talking, but then again, he never really remember much of it anyways. Peter was so caught up in all of it, that he hadn’t realized how much it wasn’t affecting him and now he feels stupid for making it such a big deal in the past. But, he had his reasons. He didn’t need to explain that.

 

  
MJ tucks her hair behind her ears and tilts her head thoughtfully. She was resting on her shins in a sitting position so the heels of her feet were pressed against her butt, her hands were resting gently against her knees. “Uh, I can be on top. If you’re cool with that.” MJ loved the control when it came to sex and Peter was  _ so _ down for it.

 

“Yeah. Hell yeah.” Peter says, but it was more of a thought. He realized it immediately and backtracks, clearing his throat, “I mean--yeah, that sounds good--”

 

“Loser.” She snorts, motioning him on the bed. 

 

It only takes a few seconds for things to get awkward because Peter was having trouble opening the wrapper, which MJ had to do herself. She forcefully tore it open with her teeth and that actually terrified Peter, but the way he felt himself throbbing beneath her told him something else. He doesn’t even allow her to ask what he knows she’s going to, so he snatches it quickly and pats her thigh, she lifts herself up on her knees, allowing him the room to slip the condom on. Surprisingly, it only took him a few seconds. He was a lot quicker when he was sober. 

 

His back was resting against the wooden headboard of the bed and he was oddly thankful for the support of it. He wasn’t sure he could support himself on his own, not with how much Michelle was completely wrecking his mind right now. She clears her throat after a while and places one hand on his shoulder. 

 

“Are you sure?” Peter has to ask. It wasn’t like they were confessing their undying love for each other, but he needed to make sure that she was positive about going through with this. 

 

“Yep.” It was curt and distant. Peter figured she was trying to disconnect any emotion she had towards him right now--which was probably for the better. “You?”

 

“I don’t think I need to answer that.” He lets out a short laugh, his hands coming up to rest against the top of her thighs. She nods thoughtfully and raises up on her knees again.

 

Peter instinctively tightens his grip when she reaches below her, aligning him at her entrance.

 

_ You are Peter Parker and you can fucking do this _ , he thinks. He tunes out all the bad, worrying thoughts and tries to focus on the reality of what was happening. Because holy shit was  _ this _ happening.

 

And the sigh that MJ releases when she finally sinks down onto him, fully seethed inside of her, has him reeling. Peter had always had always been hypersensitive when it came to touching or sex or physical contact in general. It was a curse.

 

“ _ Shit _ .” He groans, head slamming softly against the headboard. Peter was really wishing he had left the lights on. He could only imagine how amazing she looked right now, perched above him-- _ for him _ . The light coming from the bathroom wasn’t doing enough justice to showcase her body, but it was still glowing and bare and everything Peter had expected.

 

_ Fuck _ , he was making this a thing. MJ made it clear she didn’t want this to confuse things. Get your head in the game, Parker.

 

MJ giggles lightly, moving her hips in shallow circles, adjusting to him inside of her. It wasn’t like he was  _ packing _ or anything, but he was sure that she still needed time to get used to him--considering it had been a while for her. But eventually Peter gets impatient, gripping her hips and pulling her to him in one quick movement. She has to grip the top of the headboard with her free hand to keep her from headbutting it, the other hand squeezing his shoulder tightly. He didn’t know where the courage had came from, acting purely on instinct. He should do this more often.

 

MJ leans her head back when she finally takes the step to lift herself off of him, before slowly sinking back down. Peter can’t do anything but watch as she works herself above him. She repeats like that for a while, taking things agonizingly slow at first, her fingernails digging it to his shoulder every now and then. It isn’t long before she’s working herself faster, moaning quietly, a slight hiccup in her breath when she would hit a certain spot.

 

“ _ Fuck _ .” She curses, mouth falling open slightly. The hand that’s holding his shoulder releases and MJ starts trailing her fingers against the flat surface of her stomach, teasing--he wasn’t sure it was for herself or him. Either way, who cared,  _ right _ ? 

 

But then MJ reaches for one of her breasts, squeezing it tenderly in her hands, lip pulling between her teeth when she grazes her nipple. Peter watches it  _ literally _ harden before his eyes and he has to resist the urge to reach out to test things out for himself. He closes his eyes and tries to savor this, not even bothering to hold back the groans and grunts that escape him with how expertly and unceremoniously she moves herself against him. 

 

“Touch me.” She whines and Peter has to resist the urge to come right then. He was really holding back, but there was no way he was going to last much longer. He feels like he might be crossing a line but MJ speaks again to reassure him, “It’s fine.  _ Here _ ,” She says through short breaths and Peter lets her guide his hand to her other breast and he repeats her previous actions, palming it with his hands, rubbing the nipple teasingly with his thumb. He feels a sense of pride shoot through him when he feels the goosebumps rise on her skin. Peter gets a little daring, eventually, and pulls his hand away to reach for her backside. He squeezes the mound of flesh in his hands and she falls forward again.

 

“We need to speed this up.” Peter tells her regretfully, but he couldn’t hang on much longer.

 

She nods silently, resting both hands above him, fingers gripping the headboard. She moves hastily, the sound of their skin smacking together had to be the most obscene thing Peter had ever heard, but he didn’t care. He bucks into her suddenly, hard and sharp.

 

“ _ Oh _ .” She moans out, forehead dropping to rest against the top of his curls. It was a perfect angle for Peter to lean up and kiss the skin of her neck, the way she was presenting herself to him. But, he remembers the rule and decides not to--she clearly didn’t want that. It doesn’t stop him from burying his face in the crook of her neck, though, breathing hotly against her skin. He wraps his arm around her back to pull her closer, lifting her up and slamming back into her in the process. The high pitched moan that escapes her has Peter repeating the action until she’s practically begging for him to stop.

 

He finds himself lifting himself off the bed to meet her movements, working quickly to reach his release. They’re a jumble of limbs and desperate moans and groans. Peter can only imagine how disheveled he looks right now. He also doesn’t realize how much of a kink he has for hair pulling until MJ is twisting her fingers through some of the thicker part of his hair at the back of his head, pulling roughly. Her body is hot and wet against his, the sheen of sweat making her body glisten in the light. 

 

“I knew you had a kink.” MJ laughs when she finally has a chance to speak, and Peter makes sure to snap his hips sharply, causing her to gasp. “Didn’t know it would be the easy to figure out.”

 

The fact that MJ even lingered on the thought of what made Peter get all hot and bothered was unbelievable. She was a goddamn lioness and he felt like her prey, no matter how much control she was giving him right now.

 

“Shut up.” He groans out, breathing shallowly against her neck, feeling himself build and build until he was lingering on the edge. “ _ Seriously _ .”

 

MJ only smirks and pulls his hair again, “ _ Fa-faster _ …” She moans softly, lifting her hips in shallow movements, but forcing himself deeper inside of her every time. “ _ Please _ . I’m really close.”

 

He really wished she had actually listened and closes her mouth for a few seconds, because before he can control it, he’s moaning loudly against her, hips jerking and ruining the rhythm that had going. It doesn’t take long for MJ to finish either, slipping her hand between them to desperately rub at her clit, coming at the same time that Peter is trying to catch his breath and recover from his own orgasm. It hits her so hard she starts to see stars and she’s gripping onto to Peter like she’s going float away. She’s so thankful that he’s here right now, giving her what she needs. 

 

They could figure the rest out later.

 

####

 

Fifteen minutes later, they’re both showered and somewhat dressed. Peter only has a pair of boxers on, but MJ made sure to slip on some underwear, snatching a shirt from her bag to slip on over her bare chest. They hadn’t spoken more than a few words since and made sure to make the showers brisk so they could lay back down, obviously worn out. But, he doesn’t say anything when MJ rolls on her side, nuzzling her way under his arm and against his chest. Peter wasn’t much of an after-sex cuddler type, but MJ was. He didn’t have a problem with it.

 

“Don’t do it, Parker.” She warns when his chest rises, like he was taking a breath before speaking. She caught him red-handed and all he can do is chuckle and give up. 

 

He glances up at the clock on the bedside table to see that it was well past midnight and already Christmas Day. They would be back in New York by tomorrow evening and it didn’t even feel real--like he was going to wake up from this amazing dream and realize that none of this had actually happened.

 

“I would say Merry Christmas, but it seems too cheesy.” Peter finally says, tapping lightly against her shoulder. He figured it would annoy her, but she always seemed to find it cute. It was just a way to keep himself occupied and control the buzzing energy his body kept hostage. 

 

“It’s fine.” She shrugs, “I’ll let it slide.”

 

“In that case--best fucking Christmas ever.”

 

They both burst into a fit of laughter that doesn’t fade out until MJ finally drifts asleep a minute later. She was clearly exhausted, not just from the sex, but from everything.

 

But, now Peter is wondering how he’s going to handle this. His feelings suddenly didn’t feel as important as they had, like he wasn’t dying to confess his love anymore. Maybe it was all the pent up frustration and anger he had held towards her for so long. It was never her fault, he just didn’t have anyone else to blame but himself. And he’s really regretting the thought, but he actually thinks that it might work out. That things could go back to normal and they could be friends and get to that point when it happened. He didn’t to rush it anymore, because they obviously cared for each other. Maybe this was all they needed. Each other. No labels. 

 

The sex was just a bonus and Peter was totally fine with that--even if it was only a one time thing. Sure, it was still a big deal to him, considering how much he had fucked this up in high school, but she didn’t need to know that. 

Peter would be whatever she needed him to be.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *fades into darkness* 
> 
> The sex was so unrealistic, BYE. I suck at writing smut and making it seem believable. I'm still proud of it, though. So, meh. Practice makes perfect and there will definitely be more in future chapters. :))))


End file.
